Heavy stuff
by BritishAlien
Summary: When the Doc gets stranded and locked up in 1931, there's only one person who can return him to freedom. Well...maybe two! This is Part One of the 'Heavy Stuff' storyline. Part Two 'Fallout from the Atomic Wars' is now up. Hope you enjoy!
1. In Hill Valley

Tell me truthfully

-x-x-x-

Hello all! This is my first Back to the Future fan fiction, but I've been a fan of the series for years and have always wanted to give writing for the characters a go. This has been slightly inspired through me discovering the computer game not that long ago. The story has elements of the storyline of the game woven in to it, but knowledge of the game is not necessary. Hope you enjoy!

This belongs to the BTTF genre and the Telltale Game series.

-x-x-x-

October 1931, and the Doc is in trouble. Well, isn't he always? Marty stood on a street corner looking across the town square of Hill Valley. The courthouse, slowly modernising, stood proudly at its head, staring out over the rest of the province, as if the house of law was its protector. Marty's day had been a long and confusing one and the quiet of Hill Valley in 1931 was certainly a welcome sight. But his mind was on a job. Specifically the job he'd been set. The Doc had gotten himself arrested in 1931 after a speakeasy burnt down. Locked in the cells and destined for an untimely end, Marty had to help save the day.

'Marty? What in the name of Sir Isaac H Newton are you doing here?' The Doc's familiar exclamation beckoned to him as he passed by the police station's cell window. Iron bars hiding most of his old friend's face.

'Back from the Future.' Marty replied, coyly.

'Back from the….? Ah! Of course. The recall device. Nearly forgot about that. I'm glad you're here, Marty. Even though I expressly forbid you from returning for me.'

'This is heavy, Doc. Wasn't going to leave you here. Anyway, when was the last time I ever did what I was told?' Marty stared earnestly at his old friend. Marty respected Doc, but knew when he was wrong.

'I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.' Doc stared through the iron bars that kept him from freedom and at the still smouldering remains of the speakeasy.

'You always are!'

'It was one hell of a blaze. And they think I'm part of it. Now that you're here you've got to get me out of here.'

'I know, Doc. I know. But how? They're not exactly gonna let me waltz in and check you out. This isn't a hotel. This is a prison cell in 1931 and you've been accused of burning down an illegal speakeasy.'

'I'm very much aware of the situation, Marty.'

'And I know what's gonna happen if I don't get you out. But what should I do?'

'1931. I'm 17…'

'Woah, hold up Doc. Are you thinking what I think you're thinking? You can't be serious?'

'Find me. My 17 year old self. He's bound to be round here somewhere.'

'Doc, this is crazy.'

'As crazy as nearly wiping yourself out of existence?'

'Point made.' He hated it when the Doc was right.

'Just find me. I realised my passion for science barely a few months ago, I should be able to help you in some way. Sorry I can't be of anymore use to you. You're on your own, Marty.'

'Geez. Thanks Doc.'

'Great Scott!' His eyes staring right past Marty and beyond, blazing with a queer kind of worry, Doc dipped below the brim of the prison window.

'Hey, Doc…what are ya do….' And with that, Marty was knocked to the floor. Suddenly a blanket of heavy papers fell upon him and the odd 'Ouch!' could be heard coming from the person who'd knocked into him.

'Ah no! Pop's going to kill me!' Came an all too familiar voice. A little higher pitched, but a voice that Marty knew all too well. Pushing papers from his face, he picked himself up from the floor, only to see who Marty could only presume was Doc. Well, young Doc. Doc of the past. He looked so young, it was frightening. As various complaints came from the young Emmett, Marty turned back to the prison cell window. Old Doc's head could just be seen nodding and insisting upon Marty following his plan. Marty raised his eye brows to signal that if this went wrong it would be Doc's fault. The incarcerated Doc Brown nodded his understanding and mouthed the words 'Go on!' whilst Marty turned to help younger Emmett retrieve his papers. Still mumbling incomprehensibly, young Emmett noticed Marty's involvement.

'Th…Th…Thank you. Sorry, I ran in to you just now.' Emmet stuttered.

'Don't worry about it, pal. I was in your way. Where are you heading with all that?'

'Pop…I mean Judge Brown's Law firm. Just along the road' Emmett pointed to a pristine marble white building just a few steps from the outside of the police station. After a few moments of picking up what must've been a whole rainforest's worth of paper, Marty stood there carrying half of it, whilst younger Emmett stood holding the other. 'I'll take that other half now. Thanks' As Emmett reached to take Marty's half of legal documents, the time traveller stepped back, just out of Emmett's grasp.

'Oh no, I insist. Let me carry this lot to your dad's.'

'Oh alright. If you insist.' And they headed to the Law firm. Marty could feel old Doc's eyes stare into the back of his head, hoping that all would be well. All he had to do was to become friends with a past version of his mentor and then get him to help break the older Doc out of jail before some horrible catastrophe befell him and of course all without creating a massive time paradox or killing his grandfather. Or something like that. Nothing to worry about then….

-x-x-x-

Thank you for reading.


	2. Planted Seed

Well here it is. The next part of 'Heavy stuff' Hope you enjoy.

-x-x-x-

They reached the strict, white marble house of law where Judge Brown resided. It stood in the dingy corner on the main square at the centre of Hill Valley a few doors down from the burnt out husk of a building that had started all of this. The town square itself seemed not to care about the blotch on its landscape so long as it sat in the basking glory of the Courthouse. Emmett pushed the door open with his back, still firmly holding the fluttering manuscripts, and they were in. Marty had seen old films from the Thirties. Small rooms, with striped wallpaper and paint flecking off the walls of supposedly high reaching establishments. Smoke floating through the sepia air, misting up the room and adding a certain sense of derogatory pace and need to the gloomy day. And for once, the films had gotten it right. To Marty, it seemed crazy to walk through this old office building, following the younger Doc Brown. It seemed crazy to have to step through history or to even get the chance. To not leave a trace would be difficult, especially considering the job that lay at hand.

Emmett bustled speedily through the small corridors and up the rickety stairs of his dad's legal firm. Marty attempted to keep up with him, but the young Doc was far too well acquainted with the machine of law to care for anybody who was left behind. A trait ground into him by his father from an early age. To stick by the rules and follow them to the letter. In his father's eyes, imagination and progression took a back seat, whilst the law drove the country forward into a new era.

The pair finally reached the synonymous door. Large, wooden and omnipotent. A rectangular window of misted glass stood central in the door, with a thin material blind hanging down from the top. Staring down at the rest of the hallway, and the rest of the building, like some sort of personal, judicial version of George Orwell's 1984. 'Big Father was watching YOU!' The words 'Judge Brown' were skilfully crafted into a bronze plaque that stood proudly on the wooden door to his office. As they walked closer, Marty could feel a fear that he had never encountered before. Not even the first time that Strickland had given him a tardy slip. It was a fear that crept along every vein and into the heart. He liked to call it nerves. But what was he to be nervous about in walking to this door? He could not imagine the fear that young Emmett might be harbouring under that sweater vest and bow tie.

'I'd better head in alone.' Came Emmett's screechy changing voice. He bent down slightly so that Marty could arrange his half of the pile of papers on top of Emmett's. 'Won't be a second.' Using the same trick he had used on the first door, Emmett casually opened his father's office door with his back, gulped slightly, and proceeded to nervously skitter in. The door flapped sorrowfully against the hinges and Marty was left to stand in the corridor and wait for the right moment to set the ball rolling for Doc's escape. But what to say?

'_Oh, by the way, I'm from your future and your older self is actually trapped in jail here in 1931 because he created a time machine out of a DeLorean, travelled back in time and now the cops think he blew up a speakeasy, and I need your help to get him out.'_

No… that would never do. The truth despite its merits never did. Not really. Marty leaned against the peeling striped wallpaper of the drab 1930s version of an office block, and if he was honest, things hadn't changed a bit.

He heard shouting from Judge Brown's office. An enraged, deep voice could be heard shouting commands, orders and disappointments at someone in the small little room. If Marty had not known that it was Emmett in there receiving this abuse, anybody could've mistaken the conversation for one between a man and something that was beyond sub-human. After a little while of the dominance of the deeper voice, a small, weasely sound could be heard to reply. 'Yes, Pop. Sorry, Pop.'

A shadow walked up to the door. Marty could tell his head was bowed low. The door opened and Emmett stepped out. He looked cold. His skin a ghastly white and his eyes trying to hide the hurt that his dad had unleashed upon him.

'Come on. Let's go.' Emmett stuttered. His voice cracking slightly. He rearranged his green bow tie, straightened his blue pull over, and began to march along the corridors, destined to get out of the building as soon as possible. Marty kept close to him. Trying to avoid the looks that both he and Emmett were receiving from the rest of Judge Brown's staff.

They reached the outside world, and a weight seemed to lift from Emmett's shoulders. They walked to the grass-covered town square that stood at the centre of Hill Valley. In the middle of which, stood a small blue bandstand. Bunting still hung from its wooden supports presumably from a local festival. It still held a shadow of celebration, but for the two lonely figures walking towards it - it was a refuge. Emmett seemed to shuffle nervously over to it, as though it too was going to start shouting at him. Marty decided to keep quiet. He knew he could be a loud mouth when he wanted to be and would try to cheer any soul up. But he looked at the dishevelled figure of Emmett Brown, of young Doc, and wondered whether his soul was not beyond hope already. They reached the band stand on the glorious sunny day in Hill Valley. It was quiet, and most people would still be at work. The pair sat on the rim of the blue pavilion and let their legs hang over the edge. After a short silence where they both traced the perimeter of the town centre with their eyes, Marty decided to break the ice and bury the seeds of his plan.

'So, that's your old man, huh?' Emmett nodded solemnly.

'Yep. That's Pop.'

'Seems a little, er… Intense.' Marty was trying to choose his words carefully. He knew that Doc Brown was an unreliable man who, at the slightest notion, could flip out and go to sit in his back room for three days trying to work out if the Heisenberg Principal was true or not. He wondered if young Emmett was the same, and he couldn't risk that now.

'You could say that about Pop. Intense. Ha!' Emmett looked to his swinging feet. 'But he's a good man at the end of the day. Done nothing but good for this town. Nothing… but good.' Emmett stuttered.

'Seems too structured for my liking, y'know? Too much bureaucratic nonsense or whatever it's called. Not exactly an encouraging place to be.' After a short pause, Emmett, who had been turned his gaze to the flowers that bordered the small square of grass, turned his head to stare at Marty. Young Emmett's gaze pierced into Marty's soul, just as Doc's did on a regular basis. 'I know that if I had to work there, my dreams would be pretty smashed by now.'

'What are you trying to say?'

'I'm saying, Doc…I mean Emmett, that you're not destined to work for your Pop all your life. You're not built for a lawyer's job. You can't sit around in a dingy office, filing reports and getting yelled at for something you didn't even do. There's more out there than legal documents. So much more.'

'Like what? I can't leave Pop. He'd kill me. Where would I go? Nowhere.' Emmett's attention had been caught, but his inner sense of duty tried to keep him tied to his father's strangulating ship.

'What if I could give you that opportunity, eh? What if we could get you away from that and into something you're interested in. Like…oh…I don't know…science?' Marty's eyes twinkled at Emmett. He knew that would be the tag line. A word that could light the spark in Emmett's condemned, autocratic world.

-x-x-x-

The seed has been planted. Same applies for this. Hope I'm getting the characters right. Thank you for reading. xxx


	3. A new challenge

A cold silence pierced the air. Something that Marty hadn't quite expected. Young Emmett's eyes glistened. Something inside his head had tagged onto what Marty was saying. There was a glimmer of hope in that young man's eyes. The quiet town square with its tall, overbearing Courthouse and the small park at its centre seemed deserted. Just Marty and Emmett, waiting for something that both of them knew would change everything. A dream that could be unlocked and a problem that could be solved. But the dream broke...

'I'll have you know that the law is the very mortar that holds society together, and we in the legal profession are like brick masons building the edifice of the future.' Authority laced across every syllable.

'Your dad tell you that?' A few seconds passed and Emmett's eyes dropped.

'Every morning…' He looked down at his knees, keeping his eyes from meeting Marty's. To stare into the eyes of somebody who understood you was never an easy thing. Someone who held such authority in his voice always stood out from the crowd and made you listen. Especially someone who was handing you an opportunity to achieve your dreams on a plate. A dream where you had to refuse to stay in favour with the most powerful man in Hill Valley. Your own father. Oh how Emmett regretted being so torn.

'I hear you're working on an invention in your lab' Marty tried another avenue of enquiry. Maybe being frank with the young Emmett was a way around his problem. Marty knew that he could be less than subtle at the best of times and sometimes it worked.

'Invention? You must have me confused with somebody else. I'm in Law. I have absolutely no interest in science.' A sense of anger tinged his creaking voice. Emmett rose from the bandstand and started to back away from Marty, adjusting his bow tie as if it confirmed an authority.

'Emmett…I didn't mean to…' He held out a hand to try and grab Emmett's trouser leg, to pull him back down to rational thinking. Marty didn't have any time to lose. He had a deadline.

'Thank you for helping me to take the documents back to my Pop.' Emmett called. 'But who do i think you are? I seem to be telling you everything. Things that should never be said. What do you want with me?' Emmett stood at the steps of the bandstand, those that led back to his father's small law firm at the corner of Hill Valley town square. One hand gripping onto one of the wooden struts; steadying himself.

'Emmett, please listen to me….' Marty pleaded. He too pulled himself up the bandstand in an attempt to level himself with his younger mentor. A hand reaching out as if to pat Emmett on the shoulder, but young Doc shrugged him off and stepped down on to the path. He started to stumble backwards toward the little law firm in the corner. A safe haven for the confused and unsure. Emmett turned his head back so that he would not hit anything on his way back to safety, but trying to keep an eye on Marty so that he was not followed. A stranger who he talked to as a best friend was always dangerous to know. His father had told him of such men when they had first come to America. _'Beware the unknown comrade'_ His father had said at many a law trial. _'The needy are always out to make friends with influence.'_

'I don't even know your name…' Emmett called back to the lonely man on the bandstand. He ran the last few paces towards his shelter from questions and corruption.

_No wonder they called him 'The Streak'_ thought Marty.

'I'm…um...Michael….Corleone…' Marty shouted after young Doc as he entered his father's business, leaving the door flapping in the wind. 'Emmett! EMMETT!'

_Damn it!_ Marty retook his place on the bandstand and held his head in his hands. He had been right. Young Doc was just as temperamental as the old Doc. Marty didn't know how much good work he'd undone, but it would be unwise to tail the young man. It would be best to wait a few hours for him to calm down and rebuild for his second chance.

He could see old Doc's cell window through the metal structure of the bandstand. He must have been watching since they left the law firm. Marty could not bear to go over to the window; he would see the look on Doc's face. And that would be painful enough. Because what older Doc didn't know, was that Marty had broken into the Hill Valley library back in 1985. Marty had only returned one day before his mentor's execution. He had thought things would be simpler, but of course, when Doc Brown and time was involved, nothing ever would be. Doc had less than twenty four hours to live. This weighed down on Marty's mind and soul. Unsure of what was troubling him most, the fact that time was quickly ebbing away or that he could not bring himself to tell his good friend the truth. But he couldn't go to young Emmett now. He had set himself back maybe an hour or two at most by blowing his first chance with him. Maybe next time he would try another tack. Something less risky so that Emmett wouldn't be frightened off. Maybe next time he would not follow his friend back in time to try and save him. Like that would ever happen…

Until then he was in Hill Valley in 1931. Again, something he had never even thought he'd be doing, even in those long detentions given out by Strickland. Not even in those multiple hour periods had he ever imagined something like this happening. Then again, Marty had never imagined going back in time in a DeLorean. Strange how things worked out in reality.

He got up from the bandstand and began to walk in the opposite direction in which young Doc had fled. Maybe on the way, he would find another way to get Doc out of jail. Perhaps he would find the answer amidst the streets of 1930s Hill Valley. He wanted to explore the past and the best way of doing that was going for a walk. Just wandering through half known roads. Travelling through the dark streets of prohibition marked America, just a year before the Wall Street Crash which would change the world and the way America thought forever. It would cast shadows and dark times, such as had never been seen before, over places such as Hill Valley. He could roam through its streets in the knowledge that the shadows were keeping to their corners for now, waiting to pounce.

-x-x-x-

A problem has brewed for Marty. Same applies for this. This is a kind of intermediary chapter. Bigger plans for the next one. Thank you for reading. xxx


	4. Chosen Paths for a Man on a Mission

It seems that the past is a lonely road to stumble down. It shows everything that ever happened and sits in eager anticipation of what might come next. Although Marty had never been a history buff, he knew what lay in store for this little town. The Wall Street Crash was coming. An event that would ravish businesses and gut Hill Valley back to a town that depended on its fellow citizens. A community brought back together just in time for World War Two. The war memorial would not be built for fifteen years and the names that would adorn it were still wandering around in its past. Time waiting patiently for them to reach its end.

Marty realised he was being incredibly cynical, but he supposed that's what time did to someone. It made people consider themselves and the people they knew in the context of what had been and what was to come. His parents weren't even born yet. Their lives were still to come. He would turn up in 1955, screw everything up and have to fix everything with help from the man in the cells. Urgh! Time. More bother than it was worth sometimes….sometimes. He disliked dipping his nose into business that did not concern him, but knew that he would inevitably stumble into the path of something that would.

No sooner had he thought of stumbling and bumping and tripping into something not meant for him did he spot something that attached itself to his curiosity. Something that was headed straight for him.

A weasely man was heading in his direction. Head bowed, hidden under a panama hat, and a certain course planned out in his mind. That was until he lifted his head and saw Marty. The small man looked at the time traveller as though a good friend had just come into view. There was something about this guy. Something that Marty knew his thoughts on chosen paths and opportune meetings summed up perfectly. He looked so familiar, but he couldn't be sure from this distance.

'Don't suppose you could give me the time?' The man asked, sheepishly. Ha! If only I had any of it. Marty thought. 'It's just, I'm…err…late for a meeting. At least, I think I am.' He inclined his head slightly, timidly highlighting the watch on Marty's wrist. The time traveller bought the watch, which his dad had given him, into sight and read the eager little man the time. 'Thanks, sir.' He doffed his panama hat at Marty, walked past him and made his way in the direction of the town square.

'Hey!' Marty called after the man just before he turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. 'What's your name?' There was a small hesitation.

'Arthur…Arthur McFly.' Perfect. Marty ran to catch up with Arthur and placed an arm around his grandfather's shoulder. 'Why?'

'Don't s'pose I could hitch a ride to the..err…'

'Stationers?' Artie enquired.

'Yeah. Can I hitch a ride to the Stationers with you? I need to get some…..stationary.' His grandfather's face spoke volumes. There was a question hidden under the man's brow. Possibly one that he was trying to answer himself.

'Yeah…alright…Mister…?' The twinge in Arthur's voice was self-evident. Marty was encroaching. But staying in the shadows or arriving to school on time never got anything interesting done.

'Corleone…Michael Corleone' Arthur shook his grandson's hand. They walked along the empty streets. Arthur hardly spoke. He looked nervous. Something was floating through his quiet mind.

Concerning noise, Marty suddenly realised there was an abrupt lack of it. He wondered why the streets were so empty. It was a lovely day and the sun was beating down on Hill Valley. But it was still. There wasn't even a bemused dog walker or a tramp lining the streets. Their walk towards Artie's destiny was to be silent.

They reached the town square within minutes. Marty could still see Doc lingering in his cell. He was like an ever present watchman. Somebody who looked over you and judged everything that you tried to do. And time was running out.

The Stationers was the next shop along from the remains of the speakeasy. There were scorch marks along the side of any building within range. It must have been one hell of a blaze. Typical of Doc to get caught up in something like that. But what had Doc been doing in 1931? A question to save until later. If there was a later…

Marty and his grandfather reached the little building. A red and white striped shop awning hung over a little shoeshine booth just outside the door. The glass window had the words 'Hill Valley Stationers' proudly printed on its gleaming surface. It was a quaint little place. A quintessential part of Hill Valley, but soon this little shop would have a cloud hanging over it.

The door swung open with an almighty crash and out stepped a man, flanked by two others who looked equally loathsome. They were all wearing dark striped suits with fedora hats placed smartly on their heads, just so that the shadow covered most of their faces. The first of the three men to leave the shop came and sat in one of the chairs of the shoeshine booth. A small boy suddenly appeared, as if from nowhere, and started to polish his shoes. The main man looked up and acknowledged Marty and Artie's existence. His two stooges stood slightly to the side, but hung around him like vultures.

'Ah…Mcfly….sit.' The gruff tone ordered the weasely man to comply. He did so, leaving Marty standing in the middle of the sidewalk, on his own. 'Hey, kid…what's up with you?' He was addressing Marty. Eyes fixed on to his prey; his vultures circling.

'Tannen?' Marty asked, both surprised and not.

'What's it to you kid?' There was silence. 'Now why don't you make like a tree and get outta here.' Again, Tannen's muscle men seemed to get closer. Artie looked at him as though he should get the hint, but Marty stayed still.

'I think I'm gonna stay. I'm here with Artie. Got a few loose ends to tie up.' A frank answer to a frank question. Tannen's fist seemed to tighten before relaxing to clasp the chair arms and crossing his legs. The shoeshine boy was trying to keep up with his customer's movements. His little face crumpled in frustration, knowing that if he said a word, he would have his ear clipped.

'Alright smart ass. I'm not gonna make a scene on such an harmo…quiet day. But you'd better keep your trap shut!' Tannen warned. Marty nodded and leant on the arm of the chair on which his grandfather sat. Tannen turned swiftly to Artie. 'Right, McFly. You know why you're here…'

'Y…Yes, Kid. I know.' His weedy voice cracking slightly. Just like Emmett's.

'In an…err…institution such as mine, book keepin' is the most important method of keeping secrets close. And you ain't been doin' that recently, have you McFly?' Artie shook his head. His grandfather was stuck in business with a Tannen? Their families went a long way back, deeper than Marty could have ever imagined when he was a small boy and Biff would be around draining the fridge of food.

'And I can't be having that in my business, McFly. Now, you need to make up for this mistake and right your wrong.' Kid pointed right to the bridge of Artie's nose. Symbolising the fate that Artie knew all too well would meet him if he failed.

'But what am I to do Kid, sir?' Marty looked at his grandfather. The nervous look that his dad would inherit was plastered all over Artie's face. The knowledge of what to do already secreted in the back of the mind, but not the willingness to accept it.

'You're gonna go and have a nice little chat with Judge Brown and ask him for a….favour.' Tannen broke his eye contact with Artie, shifting it to Marty. A sly grin was plastered along his face, as though nothing had been said or should be. Kid leaned in to Artie and whispered something in his ear. It was only faint, but Tannen's bully boys kept their eyes on Marty, just to make sure.

'I understand, sir.' Tannen withdrew.

'You'd better or you know what'll happen to you, don't you McFly?' Artie nodded once more, keeping his eyes on the small boy who had finished his work on his client's shoes. Tannen threw a coin at the boy, who promptly ran back inside the shop. The tinkle of the shop bell mocking a light atmosphere that the boy had escaped to.

'When, Kid?'

'No time like right now.' Kid raised his eyebrows and his two goons brought out two slim guns from their breast pockets. Artie's eyes lit up through fear. He leapt from his seat, almost falling in to Marty, who promptly caught his grandfather.

'Al…Alright Mr Tannen, sir.' Artie brushed himself off, straightened his panama and turned to Marty. 'I think you'd better go, son.'

'No. The kid's coming with us.' Tannen barked. 'He'll go with you to see Judge Brown. And we'll follow behind you. Got that?' Kid hinted towards the shining law firm that stood just a few metres up the street. His two bodyguards gestured their guns towards the door before placing the weapons back in the breast pockets. Artie and Marty made their way towards the door. The latter following the former on a path that was set out for just one. A path that Marty knew would lead to no good.

-x-x-x-

What lies in store for Marty and Artie? Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. xxx


	5. Questionable

Hello all! So far this has been my favourite chapter to write. I'm getting a little further away from the Game ideas now, whilst still implementing some gimmicks. I finally finished watching the whole Telltale saga on Youtube and it is amazing, I would thoroughly recommend it! :D And now I have finally decided where I want this overall story to go. I hope you enjoy! xxx

-x-x-x-

The heated, sepia atmosphere consumed the double act as they entered the dreary law firm of Judge Brown. Marty had been in this building just over an hour before and little had changed. Even the dishevelled crones who lined the hallways had not moved an inch. Still hanging around like damp coats waiting to be seen. Such a contrast to Emmett's….well his father's view on law's fast tracked pace compared to Emmett's true love of science which lurked beneath the surface.

Artie was inching his way along the dark corridors, turning his head around corners as if someone was behind them waiting with a shotgun. For all Marty knew of the 1930s, there could be. Their passage to Judge Brown's office was relatively undisturbed. The odd busy soul would bustle past them, knocking Artie off his stride. He took his time steadying himself before continuing his journey. But then there it was. The door. The door, behind which, lurked a man who Marty had not seen, but knew had a foul temper. Especially when it came to discipline. A rival who had right on his side.

As they edged closer to the door, they could hear voices within. The rough grumbling of Judge Brown was dominating the dialogue. The other voice merely ventured a 'yes' when pauses were left in the conversation.

They reached the imposing wooden door, but stayed outside. Marty could feel Tannen and his goon's eyes boring into the back of his neck. He turned and saw Tannen pushing past some office workers, sending documents flying. His two henchmen flanked his sides and reached into their breast pockets. Gesturing towards the door.

'You have seven minutes' Kid gnarled. Several of the corridor workers turned to stare at Tannen. His dark manner casting a shadow over the law firm. Marty's head flicked back round to face Artie. Although he could not see his face, Marty could tell that his grandfather was swallowing down fear. Maybe the same sort of fear that Marty had experienced just over an hour ago. That was when Marty had a choice and could've disappeared into the mulch of 1930s Hill Valley, off to rescue Doc in a way that may not have been subtle but would have worked a treat. A DeLorean shaped hole in the wall always worked a treat. However, this time there were only two choices open to them so far as Marty could see. Do as Tannen said and keep your skin for a few more hours or be found the next morning behind the Sisters of Mercy Soup Kitchen, left on file as an unexplained death.

'Artie, knock…'

'But…But it's rude to interrupt a conversation.' Artie stuttered, knowing the foolishness of his words but hoping they would buy him more time to stop shaking.

'I don't think Tannen sees it that way.' Artie gulped, but nodded to himself as though he didn't want to accept it. Through his travels through time, Marty had come to wonder how he'd even been born. It truly had been a miracle.

Artie raised his shaking fist and knocked on the bespoke oak door. A loud cough came from the other side.

'Yes…Come in.' Beckoned the booming voice. Artie clenched his eyes shut tight, bottling up the natural response to run, and pressed forward into the lion's den.

The inside of the office was very much like the rest of the building. It smelt like cigar smoke and the grim existence that could be seen mirrored an enthusiasm for law that simply was not there. The room was decked out in an auburn style suite of leather furniture. There were certificates lining the walls and a grandfather clock that stood opposite the door. A small cabinet sat next to it, the door of it padlocked, probably hiding secret files for special cases. Maybe Doc's case was in there? At the centre of the room sat a large, austere desk. It stood firmly in front of the fireplace, as though its guardian. Protecting the light. Behind the big teak writing desk sat Judge Erhardt Brown. The man they had come to see. Marty recognised him instantly. He looked exactly like his version of the Doc banged up in jail. A bit larger around the middle perhaps and his hair was slightly darker and restrained, but otherwise it was a spitting image. It was the eyes that convinced Marty. Those hypnotic eyes.

Marty finally noticed the other smaller participant in the monologue. It was Emmett. He had once again been drafted into his father's office for another bombardment of law inducing propaganda. He was sat on a stark wooden chair. His eyes flaring like a rabbit caught in headlights and slowly jotting down notes into a small leather pocket book. When Emmett saw Marty, he leapt from his seat, dusted his blue pullover down and tweaked his green bow tie.

'Mr Corleone.' He acknowledged Marty with a nod of the head. Here he was again. A man who held his dreams in his pocket, but by doing so created choices that young Emmett could not deal with at the moment. Emmett could not openly make any knowledge of their acquaintance whilst his father stared down on him. Marty had shown him a way out. A way out from his Father's gaze. But his Pop meant the world to him. Like any Father should. Emmett stood back, whilst Artie and Marty took centre stage.

A ceiling lamp swung down on the room, creating a spotlight. It gave the room the feeling of an interrogation, Marty thought. Artie removed his hat, held it in his shaking hands and stepped into the spotlight. All eyes lay on him. Marty goading him on, wanting him to get out of here alive. It would help him no end. Emmett's eyes were filled with light confusion. He knew Arthur McFly. A good man, but off the radar for a good few years now; he didn't trust him. Neither did the man who sat behind the large desk. The man whose opinion mattered in this room was full of judgement. Placing questions in his mind, ready to confront the small, weasely man that stood silently in front of him.

'Vell?' Silence. 'You have a tongue in szat mouth? Speak man.' A tailored German accent wavered across his voice. Remnants of the place that he had left behind. The three other men stood in silence. All eyes focussed on Arthur. The grandfather clock mockingly chimed 3 o'clock. Time was running out for Doc and Marty was becoming increasingly aware of the fact.

'Judge Brown, sir….your honour, sir. I'm here on behalf of a _client _of mine. He wishes for a…' His statement was cut off by a shrill knock at the door. All heads turned to face it; as if their heads were in tune. The door swung open and a prim woman descended on the meeting. Her hair was tied into a sleek black bun and her whole demeanour typified the 1930s for Marty. A time of restraint whilst people were still aching to escape to the future, even if they didn't know what it held. Her manicured blue dress enlightened the sepia nature of the office.

'Who's the dame?' Marty leaned over slightly towards Emmett, whose head was bowed to the pocket book rested upon his knee. Emmett looked frustrated, but finally turned his head up towards Marty.

'That? That is Miss Edna Strickland. Supposed journalist and town busybody.' Emmett retorted before turning back to his note-taking.

'Not a fan, I take it?' Marty joked. Doc had never seemed one for relationships of any kind. It had surprised Marty when Clara had taken such a hold on his life. But they were happy and that was what counted. Young Doc was however too controlled by his father's ideals and a need to succeed that he did not notice the fairer sex. And Edna Strickland seemed to be on his list of who to ignore. Emmett's eyes flicked back up again. They held that piercing stare that Doc would give Marty if he didn't understand something quick enough. To which Marty would always reply 'heavy stuff.' But this time the reply of miscommunication never came.

'She is an irascible so and so. Poking her nose into business that does not concern her. She works on the town paper as a junior researcher and Pop let her have a part time job running letters to him. An over-zealous example of a carrier pigeon, that's all.' A woman who was making her way in the world in the 1930s was an odd sight indeed. She seemed to have turned a few heads by doing so. For good and for bad.

'So, it's not official?' Marty asked, leaning in to Emmett's insecurities.

'Far from it, thank goodness. She used the excuse that it was part of her natural journalistic tendencies to want to delve into the heart of law and order. Of course, Pop ate that all up. In my honest opinion she is nothing but a telegram system, sticking her thumbs into too many pies.' Emmett winked a hoped understanding at Marty, signalling all his care for the young woman who stood at the door. Utter contempt for her. He turned back to his scribbling, but knowing Emmett, he was still listening intently.

'Ah, Miss Strickland…' Judge Brown rose from his chair and kissed Edna on the back of her outstretched hand.

'Your honour. I have some mail for you…' Edna suddenly seemed to notice the other three members of the conference. 'Oh, I hope I'm not interrupting anything, am i?' She looked quizzically around the dingy office, resting momentarily on the man at the centre of the room. She then glanced over Marty like he wasn't even there and did not even bother turning an eye towards Emmett. Maybe the feeling was mutual.

'Not at all my dear. Just some menial business. You have some news for me?' Edna skittered in. Her high heels clunking against the wooden floorboards.

'We have a letter from Gale & Zemeckis Limited in New York. They wish to invite you to a formal meal with them and the Chief Commissioner in July. And then…we have a meeting with Mayor Thomas and the Hill Valley Rotary Club to commend you for your firm's fantastic progress.' She handed the letters to Judge Brown, who flicked through the envelopes before placing them neatly on his desk.

'Thank you, my dear. Is that all?' Edna nodded, curtseyed to Judge Brown and bid her farewells to the rest of the room's occupants. She strolled out of the door, pulling it to as she left. All they could hear was the tantalising glisten of her high heels as they stepped along the corridor outside and out of thought.

'My apologies, Mr McFly. Law is fast paced and a smoozh running machine. One could not allow a kink in ze gears, so to speak. You were saying?' Judge Brown shifted his gaze back to Arthur before returning to the comfortable leather bound chair behind his desk. Arthur scratched behind his right ear and shuffled his feet. Miss Strickland's interruption had bought him some time to regroup and to regain any confidence he might have had. Time was ticking.

'M..My…client wishes for a formal state decree of clearance of passage.' Artie's voice trailed off to hide in the dark recesses of the 1930s office. There was a short silence where everybody looked at everybody and no questions seemed to be answered, but many were posed.

'I don't quite follow you.' Judge Brown intimated and leaned forward in his chair so that he could cross his arms and lay them on his desk.

'F…F…Formal clearance of passage, sir. My client needs that as soon as physically possible to continue a trade deal to aid the Hill Valley economy, sir.' Every word held pitch of pure conviction, but Marty could tell when his grandfather was towing the line. Judge Brown's glance shifted between the stranger and his son. Leaning mostly on his son.

'I'm afraid I cannot fulfil your decree today. I am rarzer busy and as there is no paperwork to back up your needs, I am afraid I shall have to refuse your…client's offer.' Judge Brown's smooth German tinge danced around his lips attempting to hide what Marty thought was a nervous smile.

'Sir, I cannot leave here unless you accept my words and…and…give me the decree. Please, your honour.' Artie pleaded. He stepped forward, slightly more into the light's beam that hung from the ceiling. The spotlight, singling him out.

'I know what one can and cannot do, Mr McFly. We are ze law here and we run zis town.' His voice rising to a crescendo.

'You'll only make it more difficult for yourself, sir.' Marty knew why Arthur was being so stern. They had less than two minutes. Why couldn't Judge Brown see past his tinted glass and just accept? Marty could see why there was something about Emmett that pushed him over the edge.

'You have the impertinence to say such things to me. To me?' His face flushed a deep red, but Marty could see another string to Judge Brown's bow. Something more than anger at being ordered about. Something much deeper. Something personal.

'Sir, please listen to me.' Artie's voice was practically breaking in exasperation. Emmett's head had been flicking between McFly and his father. Whatever it was that Arthur wanted must have been important. Why was there no break down?

'Listen to him!' Marty shouted, as if he had just realised that he could join in on this conversation. One minute.

'A proper explanation needs to be in order before anything further can be discussed. Emmett, could you escort these two gentlemen from my sight.' Emmett rose from his chair and motioned towards Marty and Arthur. He was unable to get further as a mighty raucous noise of squabbling voices could be heard from outside. The door burst open and three smart suited men entered the room with Kid at the head.

'Time's up McFly. No more Mister Nice Guy.' Tannen reached into his breast pocket and pulled a gun on Judge Brown.

'Father!' Emmett ran towards his dad and nearly reached him before he was bustled back by one of Tannen's muscle men. He was pushed back into the corner, right arm pulled behind his back and the arm of his captor wrapped around his mouth, so as not to let a scream escape. The other of Kid's bully boys barged over to Artie, knocking him over in the process before lunging for Marty who suffered the same fate as Emmett. Any interruptions between Tannen and Brown would be severely punished.

'I sent in the squit here as my first avenue of enquiry. My soft, forgiving side. I sent in my nice guy.' Tannen gestured towards Artie who was nursing a flourishing bruise on his forehead. 'Now, I want results. You know of my business and I warned you about days like today. Give me the formal clearance of passage and we'll get outta your hair…If not…then we'll let your secret spill out to the whole town.' The gun edged nearer to Judge Brown's temples. The Judge stood up from his chair and stared down the barrel of the gun.

'Tell the whole town what?' Marty blurted out after several moments of silence. Emmett's squirms could be heard from behind him. He could not bear to see his father as part of an argument with Kid Tannen. Anyway, the law always won out, didn't it?

'What did I say to you, kid?' Tannen stared wolfishly at Marty.

'Fraid my hearing isn't that good. Didn't hear you too well. Tell the whole town what exactly?' Marty was piercing a gas canister that could go off at any second. He knew the Tannen family were temperamental, but this was exploring new boundaries.

'Secrets that would turn your little scruffy hair white, kid. And all about this upstanding member of the community' He spat. 'Pah! This man is a scumball!' Tannen growled.

'Don't you dare say that about my Pop. He has more guts than all of you groundhogs.' Emmett mumbled through the hand of his restraining guard. His speech muffled.

'And I bet your Pop has told you the whole truth and nothing but the truth?' Tannen inferred. For a descendant of Mad Dog, he was surprisingly similar and brutish in his tamed, strict 1930s attire. Nothing ever changed!

'Don't listen to him, son…'

'Shut your mouth. I said shut up. I'm telling the tales now. And it's up to your boy here to decide whether he believes open liars like me or them that are locked up in the dark of a corrupt idea.' Tannen licked his lips. He was enjoying this. Marty resented him for toying with people's minds. Especially the fact that he seemed to be being successful.

'What is it Tannen? What's the beef?' Marty asked.

'The fact that before prohibition kicked in, this man was an alcoholic…dependant on drink to fuel his law duties…'

'So what, Pop enjoyed the odd whiskey. All forgotten when the Prohibition Act of 1919 came into effect, right Pop?' Emmett's eyes drifted to his father, whose own had not left the gun or its owner.

'…And the truth that he still is…' Tannen dropped the gun from Judge Brown's head and sauntered over to the small cabinet next to the grandfather clock. The gleaming padlock that Marty had noticed earlier shone mockingly. Tannen raised his gun to it and shot at the lock. An almighty bang and smashing of glass emanated from the wooden casing. As the smoke lifted from the broken lock, Tannen moved in and wrenched the doors clean off the piece of furniture. At this, several of the corridor creepers barged into the office.

'Wha was that?'

'Your honour, are you alright?'

'What's all the commotion?'

The swarm battled in and stood sentinel by the door. There must have been up to ten people who had heard the bang and had come to investigate. The doors of the cabinet swung open and inside sat several glistening bottle of drink, all of varying emptiness. There was now a small bottle of glass with liquor flowing from its shattered form.

'See what I mean?' Tannen began to laugh and turned to the gathered rabble. 'Yeah, you schmucks look at your picture perfect boss. Not so perfect now.' He burst into taunting laughter. The two goons, after some encouragement from their boss, joined in the mocking laughter. Marty surveyed the scene. A show of shocked employees stood by the door, mouths wide open. He could just see Artie slipping past the crowd, out of the door and out of sight.

Judge Brown had flopped back into his chair and stared at his feet. Bathed in the shadow of judgement that he could no longer control. But the face that Marty knew mattered most told the real truth. Emmett's face had sunk. It was a mixture of disappointment and betrayal. And also….disbelief.

'Not so trusting now are you sonny?' Tannen bore down on Emmett. He was laying into him. Taking away everything that Emmett had held close. Laughing. Staring. Gloating. Glaring.

'If you don't mind sir, I would very much like to leave.' Emmett asked strongly. His words tripping slightly. His pitiful voice barely registering. Tannen swanned around the room. Flaunting the gun around like he was carrying a bunch of flowers and not a loaded weapon.

'Let him go.' Marty shouted. His arm held tightly behind his back. Tannen turned and strolled up to Marty. Their noses almost touching.

'Mr Big shot again? Glad you come along for the ride? Glad you followed Artie into the lion's den? Not so wise anymore. In fact, I'd say you've made more loose ends for yourself. Pity, for you that is.' Their eyes touched. 'Gah! Let sonny go.' Emmett was released by Tannen's goon and he instantly crumpled to the floor. There was no need in his face. No desire to do anything. He looked like a puppet whose strings had just been cut and whose world had fallen out from under him. 'He can't hurt us anyways. Not now.' Emmett latched on to the wooden chair he had sat on earlier and began to pull himself up from the floor. He finally stood tall in the centre of the light and stared at the crowd at the door. He straightened his bow tie, adjusted his pullover and calmed his hair. His face was expressionless. His eyes glassed over, seeing nothing but the door in front of him and a way out.

'Son?' Came the broken whisper of Judge Brown. Emmett allowed his gaze to glance over his father. Just one glance, because he knew that if he allowed himself a proper look at his Pop, he would not be able to understand why. He could not answer his call. He didn't know how. He stared at the crowd and walked slowly towards it, like the condemned man.

'Hey, move it. Get outta the way for the kid. Let him through.' The milling crowd around the door dispersed, leaving a clear passage for Emmett to walk through. All eyes followed him until he walked around the corner of the corridor and into memory. 'And if any of ya say anything about this to anyone outsida here, then the same thing'll be coming your way.' Tannen threatened to those who were still left. He then turned to Judge Brown whose whole face seemed to have fallen.

'See what happens when you mess with Kid Tannen. Next time it won't be those lousy schmucks in your office. It'll be your blessed Mayor Jack Thomas.' Tannen's evil smile lingered over the Judge's eyes. 'Come on boys.' With that, he beckoned his cohort to follow him. Marty was released by the other goon and promptly fell to the floor. Unlike Emmett, he pulled himself up straight away and watched as Tannen and his gang left through the gap in the crowd and back into the mist. He had to follow his friend into that. When Doc had suggested trying to break him out of jail by getting the help of his younger self, Marty would bet the Sports Almanac that he would never have imagined something this deep.

Marty stood and looked at the shoal of people as they weaved their way back to the corridor and back to their bustling work life. Marty caught the image of the sad Judge Brown in the corner of his eye. A strong authoritative man, reduced by his misgivings.

'I'm sorry, sir.' Marty meant it too. Even after all that he knew of Erhardt Brown from listening to Doc, Marty could not help but feel some pity for this shadow of a man.

'I'm sorry too.' Chimed the Judge, whose glum expression seemed to be fading into the fireplace. Marty nodded to himself and headed towards the corridor and out of the office, closing the door behind him. There was no sense in leaving it open for the despair to slip out. Now Marty had to concentrate on comforting his dear friend and furthering his plan. Maybe disappointment played into Marty's hands. Why was it that sadness and human wrongs always worked well in situations such as these? Travelling through time gave him that insight. That all human sadness was a gateway to an opportunity. This really was heavy stuff.

-x-x-x-

Thank you for reading. xxx


	6. On course

Marty left the shadowed law firm as fast as he could. Members of the dispersing crowd were lapsing back into their corners, lining the walls. Hopefully they wouldn't tell anyone about what had happened just now, not just for the sake of Emmett and his father, but for that of the town.

He stumbled out of the building and watched as Kid and his Goons walked around the back of the Sisters of Mercy Soup Kitchen and out of sight. Whilst the woman who had been in Judge Brown's office could be seen walking along the street towards the bandstand. The sunshine had vanished only to be replaced by vapid clouds of grey and black. He scanned the town centre and the silence that he had encountered earlier was still consuming this quiet corner of America. Not a soul was walking through Hill Valley but those who had the past to forget. Marty glanced up at the time piece that hung above the Courthouse. 3:50pm. Time was ticking. He wouldn't have time to search for the young Doc unless he chose wisely. He had to make a snap decision. It was at times like this that Marty wished he had a vaguely logical mind, or at least one that had paid attention in class. He should banish that thought. Wasn't him at all. The least he could wish for was to have a good idea as to where Emmett would be. But, just like his older self, he was eccentric and slightly brilliant. If he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. A trait that Doc had never lost.

Hold on a minute! Doc!

Marty's head flashed to the jailhouse and peered into Doc's cell. There he was, wandering around it. Pacing and pacing. Marty ran over the road, nearly being ran over by the one solitary vehicle that Hill Valley seemed to own that day. He skidded past the window, hoping beyond hope that Doc had seen something.

'Doc! Doc! You gotta help me!' Marty called. His voice pricked Doc's ears, who turned quickly, his face beaming with a vast innocence that Marty could never quite place.

'Marty! How's it going?' Doc's grin gave Marty cause to worry. Maybe Doc hadn't seen anything.

'He ran off, Doc.' His old friend's face crumpled into confusion.

'What? Why?'

'The meeting with Kid and your Pop.' Marty didn't know what to say. How much could he tell his mentor? Too much and it might break his heart, too little and Marty might never find young Emmett. Anyway, he wasn't sure how much Doc would know of events that happened a few minutes ago. From his past experiences, Marty knew it took a while for the past to catch up with them. 'You ran out after an…er…a disagreement… with your Pop.'

'Ah, well I had many of those at that age. I was an obstreperous young man in those days. I'd have given Reagan a run for his money.' Doc chuckled to himself slightly, but Marty was eager to press on now that little hurdle had been jumped.

'But, y'see, Doc, I don't know where you are. He could be anywhere.' Marty's exasperation was clearly not evident to his mentor as Doc considered each point obstinately. Come on Doc!

'Yes. I could always find a place to hide. It was how I kept all of my science books from reaching Pop's hands. I can remember one place I'd always use to sit and think though. If I remember correctly it was…' A piercing scream ended Doc's flow. Marty turned his head only to see the woman he'd seen in Judge Brown's office standing under the clock tower. What was her name? Ethel? Enid? Edna!

'Great Scott!' Doc exclaimed, his eyes fixed on young Edna as her scream echoed throughout Hill Valley.

'Gotta go.' And with that, Marty ran across the road, leapt over the hedge bordering the town square and was set on course to stand by Edna's side.

He stood next to the woman in blue and followed her line of sight. His head raised, he finally saw what she had screamed at. It was Emmett! He was walking along the platform on which the clock also sat. The two gargoyles that stood in Marty's day seemed to be just being put in place. There were wooden boards for workmen to stand on and ropes that hung like spiders webs across its face.

'EMMETT!' Marty called up, cupping his hands around his mouth to increase the volume.

'You don't think he's going to jump do you?' Came Edna's crisp, prim voice. For all the world, Marty could have sworn that there was a sense of urgency and delight in that thought. He could understand Emmett's dislike for her, but maybe she was right. Doc could be very spontaneous.

'Not until you just said. Come on Emmett. Come down!' Marty stared at Emmett, waiting for the smallest utterance of a reply. Anything would've resolved Marty's quivering heart as it thundered blood through his brain. Constantly thinking of things to say and do in snap situations.

'No…I don't want to.' Emmett's small voice crept through the wind and reached the two bystanders. Marty ran forward and tried to open the courthouse doors, only to no avail. 'And don't try opening the doors, I asked for them to be locked. Mrs Needles closed them behind me; she does so hate the draft…' Marty had returned to his place beside Edna who was rustling in a brown leather bag that hung by her side. She pulled out a small notepad and pen.

'Hey, what do you think you're doing?'

'The local paper, sir. This is bound to add some flare to the front pages.' She licked the tip of her pen before starting to scribble incessantly on the piece of paper. Marty's eyes turned towards Emmett who was now sitting on the thin ledge. His legs were dangling over the precipice; staring out towards Hill Valley as if it was the only thing that would hear his heart break.

'EMMETT! Come on! Come down and we can talk about this!'

'Talk! All people do is talk and look where it's got them.' His soft syllables drifted on the wind. He sounded so sad. It must've been a real shock. 'Leave me alone.' Edna looked up, staring ravenously up towards Emmett, ready to devour this story.

'People could only guess as to why the young clerk sat atop the Hill Valley Courthouse, lending his misery to the world.' She pressed the pen to her nose as if she alone knew. 'Ah, what a great line. My boss will love me for this. Farewell, Mister.' And with that, she began to walk off, away from the sight of one man losing the will to live and the other trying to give him it back. Marty knew that he couldn't do anything from street level. He ran back to the doors and started hammering on them with his fists.

'Mrs Needles. Mrs Needles, let me in. I need to talk to Emmett.' After calling through the solid doors, a latch could be heard clicking open and a severe old woman with flashing green eyes opened the door.

'Master Brown is collecting some files for his father. Now if you could please leave him be. He is terribly busy.' Her voice sounded like Edna's. Pinned to within an inch of its life. By the time she could do anything about it, Marty had slipped past her and was beginning to climb up the grand staircase which led to the roof and presumably, led to Emmett. Her cries could be heard reverberating throughout the solid marble walls, but Marty was deaf to her cat calls. A few hours before Doc would be history and he couldn't afford hold ups.

He reached the top doorway which marked the entrance to the clock workings and the tower itself. The room was dark. Dust and cobwebs covered every surface. Cogs and coils curved elegantly around one another, keeping the clock ticking in perfect harmony. A rickety wooden staircase crept around the walls up to the very top. But through the darkness, Marty could see the hatch that led to the outside world. He swerved his way through the working gears of the clock mechanism, up the rocking stairs and opened the door. Light burst into the long forgotten room, illuminating the spider webs and thick coating of grime and time.

Marty cautiously placed his foot out on to the ledge and, clinging to every amenable surface he could, he pulled himself out of the dark. The view was beautiful. It took in all of Hill Valley. Marty could see right to the edges of the Eastwood ravine as it glided through the countryside. He could see why Doc had liked it up here. It was…peaceful. But Marty's peace was soon dispersed. Mind on his task, Marty turned his head, only to see Emmett with his head in his hands. Despair washing over his perfect hair and pullover.

'Hey!' Marty said. Emmett jumped and almost slipped from the edge of the sill, taking a wooden builder's plank with him, which fell to the street with a satisfying, but scary *CLUNK*. Emmett pulled himself back so that he sat far from the edge. His back resting against the clock face.

'What do you think you're doing?' His voice rattled with anger and sorrow.

'I thought you were gonna jump.' Marty replied, feeling somewhat foolish.

'Jump? Why would I jump? I'm not that suicidal.' Young Doc returned his gaze to his dangling feet. The sadness in his eyes enveloped him. Sometimes Marty wished that he could just grab him by the shoulders and shake his old friend until he saw sense, but he knew that was never going to work. Smooth and steady would have to be enough…or so he hoped.

'Are you alright?' Marty's voice quivered.

'Alright? I've just discovered that my father is an alcoholic and is in session with Kid Tannen who is presumably bootlegging the liquor in for my father. And now so do most of his colleagues and now with that flagrant busybody, Edna Strickland, strutting around like she owns the place, the whole town will know. She can never keep her mouth shut if a "story" rears its head. Our name will become a laughing stock. It'll be a scandal and we'll never bounce back…' Emmett's voice tapered off to a thin whisper. Marty could hear the resentment in his voice. He felt like there was something not quite right.

'But it's not just that, huh?' Emmett's eyes flicked up. There he went again, Mr Corleone, knowing everything about him. His inner most feelings as though they were diagrammed and referenced. How could he know that?

'No. No, it's not. My father lied. I know that parents lie to their children to make everything seem ok and to protect them. I've seen enough liars in this job with my Pop that sometimes I understand why people lie. It hides the truth when it hurts. But…he…after all those speeches about goodness and honesty and righteousness. Everything that I've been turned away from because of those ideals that my father has pounded in to me since I was a little boy. They stand for nothing when the man wielding the truth finds it dug it into his own back…' Emmett's voice suddenly crumbled. His brisk and creaking tones seemed lost. This was not Doc Brown. And Marty didn't know what to do. His natural reaction would be to walk away and let his dear friend, who he had grown to understand so much more in these brief hours, have time to cool off. However, as was so vastly apt, at that moment, the clock decided to chime its existence to the world and declare it 4 o'clock.

'I know you're going through a bit of a rough time now' Marty shouted over the clock's protestations '…but sitting here isn't going to achieve anything. You gotta do something, Doc.' Emmett gave him a strange look and so Marty decided to press on with his chartered plan. 'You know how earlier I was talking to you about science. Well, I need your help. A very important mission which your entire life might depend on….if you help…of course.' Slipped around that one. Emmett's eyes, still fixed on Marty, narrowed. It was taking all Marty had to hide the real truth after he'd had Emmett's soliloquy on right and wrong. He certainly could've given Reagan a run for his money.

'Mission? What kind of mission is there to be had in Hill Valley? Helping out at the soup kitchen perhaps and adding some flavour to that disgusting drain water that they serve there? Or creating some form of beverage that has the same effects as alcohol but is legal only for that to be condemned to infamy?' Emmett's voice wavered between mockery and boredom. Marty shuffled forward and placed a reassuring hand on Emmett's shoulder, always making sure that he was in reach of something to grab on to should he fall.

'Not quite, Emmett. Not quite. But it is something that, if my idea goes to plan, will be able to halt this bootlegging and bring down the Tannen Empire which is slowly starting to get its grimy little hands on your Pop.' Marty released his grip on Emmett's shoulder and moved carefully back to the hatch, grabbing hold of the head of the gargoyle which rocked slightly. He only hoped young Doc believed him.

Emmett's eyes seemed misted over now. This man certainly had changeable moods, Marty had no idea how he kept up.

Suddenly, Emmett shot up and stood in front of the large clock face. He reached out his arm, grabbed Marty's hand and started shaking it frantically. The light was back and finally, it seemed, Marty was on course.

'When do we start?' Emmett's eager tingle of a voice grew rapidly and his excitement shone on his face for all to see.

'Right away.' Marty insisted, letting Emmett pass, whilst being very careful not to let go of the wobbly gargoyle.

'We'll go to my laboratory.' Exclaimed Emmett.

'Laboratory?'

'Alright, my Pop's garage, but MY laboratory. Come on. There isn't a moment to lose!' And with that Emmett scurried like a mouse through the dark cupboard, down the wobbling stairway and down the grand marble staircase. His footsteps could be heard scampering down the steps. Marty could hear Mrs Needles voice ringing when Emmett met the ground floor.

'Where are those papers for your father? I'll tell him you've been mucking about on that balcony again! You see if I don't.' Shouted Mrs Needles.

'So tell him…' Emmett's careless response was thrown into the poor receptionist's face as he left the building, keenly making his way towards his mission.

Meanwhile, Marty took one last glance out over Hill Valley. Oh what a wonderful sight and oh what things it would bear witness to in the next few years. He stared down to the bandstand only to see Emmett beckoning him on. Marty could see that Emmett was finally in the right. There wasn't a moment to lose.

-x-x-x-

Am I getting the characters right and are you guys enjoying the storyline thus far? Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


	7. The spark of invention

After a week of muttering to myself about what I should do to with this story, I have finally come to a decision and I have a set conclusion. Boy that took a while. :P But yes…hope you're enjoying it so far and that you'll enjoy this next bit of 'Heavy Stuff' xxx

-x-x-x-

They darted through dark alleys, skirted along side streets and ran down silent roads until they reached the outer fringes of Hill Valley where the wealthy could survey their domain up on high.

In 1985, some of these grand houses that stood, in what would become John F. Kennedy Drive, still existed and stood proudly in their foundations. Some family homes would be passed on to the next generation of upper class weasels, some were left empty and forgotten about, whilst others would be wiped from the face of the Earth. Just like the one they were making their way to right now…memories would be lost.

As Marty ran down these half known roads, trying to keep up with young Doc as he sped towards home, Marty realised why time travel was so complex. Whole swathes of time could be washed out from under their feet by one careless act. Or even a careful one. Marty couldn't tell if what he was going to do would affect anything. The only thing he knew was it was going to affect their lives for better and/or for worse.

Finally, the pair came across the Brown family mansion. It stood beside other such houses that towered above them both; dwindling them to the size of mere action figures in a game where the unknown pulled the strings. Marty stopped to survey the grand house that stood at number 1640 Riverside Drive. He watched it as though expecting it to move. The large garage stood to the right of Marty's vision and acted as a welcome post for any traveller who chose to walk up the beautifully paved driveway to the main house. Meanwhile, the large manor itself stood proud and elegant amongst the rest of its surroundings; acting as their protector. Large trees and plots of grass spread from it in every direction as though the house itself tended nature's every need. The whole place felt somewhat ethereal and calm as a light shower of rain descended on the hill top.

The main house did look beautiful and inviting, but it was not the soul concern of Marty or young Doc. The latter ran straight to the large garage where a solid padlock hung strongly on the lock of one of the doors. Emmett was fiercely rootling around in his trouser pockets until finally he found a rusty old key to fit in the rusty old lock. After several turns, clicks and kicks, the door of the little hideaway burst open. Marty and Emmett ran into the cover of the garage, hiding from the rain that was beginning to gain weight and intensity. Light from small windows burst in, allowing the room a musty feeling of an attic or old bookshop. After a minute or so, Marty heard a sharp flick and suddenly bright lights flooded the gloom with vibrancy. Marty had been right, the place was musty and old. Hardly somewhere one would expect to find an ordinary school boy. But then again, Emmett was far from your usual school boy. He was going to invent the time machine for god's sakes!

Scattered around the large room were benches, desks, lamps and bookcases that seemed so adequately placed that should anything be moved, it would somehow look wrong. Old jackets lay littered on backs of chairs as Emmett had gone to work in there, taken it off and merely forgotten. More important things had been on his mind at the time. A large tarpaulin hung over a sizeable work surface near the back of garage. Troughs and hills were formed into the cloth and betrayed to Marty what was underneath. Emmett blustered past and, tripping over a chair piled high with papers, he withdrew the cloth from its place. Underneath stood a whole bunch of scientific equipment. Easy to hide, but surprisingly complex for a boy who wasn't all that in to science when first asked.

'So…what do you think?' Emmett's voice cracked as he showed his pride and joy of a science collection to someone else for the first time. For so long now it had been hidden under the tarpaulin should his father come in and find the instruments. But now it was okay to show someone even though it felt like self-treason.

'It's great, Emmett. You've got a really great place here.' Marty replied as he stepped into Emmett's haven. Here lay the foundations of what Marty would stumble into many years in the future. He could still remember the day he had first met Doc Brown, after he had solemnly sworn to his parents and Mr Strickland that he wouldn't go near the man. And look where that had led to…

'It's nothing special, but its home. Back in the day I used to come down here and secretly read Jules Verne novels. It was the only place that my Pop wouldn't think to look. Then a few years ago I asked for the building as a study area as my Pop never used it for its actual purpose. He must have been feeling off on that day because he accepted.' Emmett smirked to himself. He had just uttered something that a few hours ago, he would not have dared to think about. 'So I moved on in here. All my books and law papers under the sight of my Pop. The rest was smuggled in…no better than the bootleggers that bring hooch in from other states, I s'pose. Over the years I have accumulated this selection of scientific equipment in hope that one day I'll be able to make use of it. And now…well, you can see that it's no longer a 'small collection.' But Pop doesn't bother me in here. Has too much to deal with considering his work and his…' Emmett paused. 'Other lascivious activities. He just pines away in his office up at the main house. I never thought to go in and look...' Emmett once again trailed off into silence. Marty couldn't help but think that what had happened over the last few hours was catching up with young Doc. Yes, Marty had been able to hide that with the promise of achieving something for a while, but now it was all starting to slow down. He needed to step up to the mark.

'Right, so let's get down to business…' Marty proposed. Suddenly, Emmett's fist struck the table, as if he'd just let it hang loose, without taking much care as to its eventual destination.

'Business? Ha. I don't know what it is about you Mister Corleone, but you seem to be able to convince me that something is right to do, without me even asking what it is. It's like you know me so well that you just expect me to tell you anything.' Emmett's doubts were starting to increase Marty's. Young Doc wasn't going to let Marty through easily. Mistrust was still rife. The boy from 1985 stepped over to the young version of his mentor, head hung down and staring at his own feet. Marty grabbed his friend's shoulders and wished for him to look up. Marty needed to convince Emmett that everything would be okay. Time was ticking.

'Emmett. Please, you've got to listen to me. You may not trust me, but trust what I say. There is a man in the jailhouse who should not be there. He needs to be out by tonight or….or…something bad is going to happen to him. Something heavy…'

'Well, if he's in the jailhouse, surely it's the right place for him to be? My affirmation that the law is always right may be somewhat dented but I still believe in its principals. Who is it anyway?' The pressures that his father had placed on young Emmett were certainly still visible. If only Marty could make him break this programming.

'It's Carl Sagan. The man who was falsely accused of the speakeasy fire. He's being set free tomorrow morning.' Emmett's eyes narrowed. How stupid could this man who knew everything about him be?

'If he's being let out tomorrow why do we need to set him free?' Emmett's hands were waving around in pure exasperation. The words 'let out' must mean something different where Mr Corleone came from.

'Of all you've seen today, surely you know that the police aren't the only ones who enforce the law in Hill Valley.' He hated to bring back the memories of what had happened in Judge Brown's office that afternoon, but if it got Marty an answer then it was worth anything. Emmett stood firmly in the face of Marty's truth. His heart quivered before acknowledging that there were other forces working in the depths of Hill Valley that he would never want to understand or succumb to.

'I see your point.' Emmett's eyes flashed unwillingly to Marty. 'So…what do we have to do? Break him out I suppose? How? I've never broken someone out of jail before. Always been on the side trying to get them in…' Young Emmett started pacing around the work bench of science equipment. A proper scientist, Marty thought.

'I don't know, Emmett. I came to you remember.' Marty really didn't know how they were going to successfully get Doc Brown out of jail before the morning came. It had been Doc's idea to rope in his younger self, but it had worried Marty as to how much Doc had trusted his past. How could he have been sure that Emmett would even talk to Marty? And even now, forces worked against them. A police sergeant would be on guard all night.

All of a sudden, Emmett's whole demeanour changed from one of pondering curiosity to unsure success. He snapped up from his pacing stance and ran along to one of the many book cases that lined the walls, ran his finger along one of the dusty shelves and pulled out a book. 'What about explosives?' Now there was the scientist in Doc beginning to emerge.

'Too obvious and far too loud, Emmett.'

'Dig a tunnel?' Emmett playfully suggested.

'Too much work, so little time.' Then something clicked.

'Great Scott! I think I have it.'

'What? What is it, Doc?' Another slip up. Hopefully Emmett would ignore it. And so he did. In the future, Doc Brown would often be deaf to small mutterings due to the flow of scientific ideas that came rushing through his mind. It seemed that this particular trait had started early in his mentor's life. The urge to fulfil an idea, as potent as a pipe.

'We could create some form of eroding substance. Something that would crawl into the iron bars and dissolve them and thus creating a space for Sagan to escape.'

'And how would we go about this?' Marty asked. The only thing he could think of was some form of acid. High School chemistry lessons had not lingered for long in his mind. Where would they get that from?

'It's just an idea but if I'm right about my father's ways, he will have kept some liquor in his office up at the house to subdue him on those evenings when everything became too much. Easy enough to get in to if you have the knowhow.' Young Emmett tapped his nose. There was certainly a spark of the mad, mysterious scientist bristling around this young man about to embark on his dreams. 'If we oxidise the alcohol with potassium dichromate solution in the presence of dilute sulphuric acid that should create oxalic acid. 3000 times stronger than acetic acid. Should erode iron railings pretty nicely, but can easily be contained in solution until needed. If I'm correct, we must be careful with it though. On reaction with the air it becomes incredibly volatile and combusts within a matter of seconds.'

'Sounds a little risky, Emmett.'

'Mr Corleone, if there is one thing you've taught me today then risks are more than worth it in the end.' The cool, reassuring answer of Emmett's wistful tones reminded him of the man now locked in the jailhouse. It was strange for Marty to talk to this young man and not think of him as Doc. But from what little differences there were between the two men he could distinguish one thing for certain. They were both good men and always would be.

'How long will it take?' Time always on the opposing side for Marty.

'About an hour if I do it right.' Of course he'd do it right, thought Marty.

'Right, let's get on it. How can I help?' Marty clapped his hands together and with that the pair went about collecting the alcohol from Judge Brown's cabinet and on with the next stage of operations. Marty knew that this would be a risk. He had remembered what old Doc had said in the future about paradoxes and what not. But if Doc had suggested it, then there was little that Marty could do to go against him. Time would tell.

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Okay, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Hope the science isn't too farfetched. I did consult a friend of mine on this particular chapter concerning it and it is apparently feasible :P

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Reviews means more writing :D xx


	8. Hard Times of Hill Valley

Here is the next part of Heavy Stuff. Hope you enjoy. :D

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After several hours of mistakes, failed attempts and one particular incident which ended in a pair of Emmett's favourite slippers developing a certain number of holes which descended into the carpet, the team were ready to set off. The slip ups had cost them precious time. So much so that the rain had turned into a downpour, levelled off, allowing the clouds to let loose their burden and leave a clear dark sky above their heads.

With a *puff* of the final stopper, the hoard of oxalic acid was stored safely in its test tubes and ready to do its job. Marty and Emmett had been particularly careful when syphoning the liquid into the glass vials, ensuring that every drop of this solution would be put to good use. Emmett had insisted on making a specifically large sample, in case the amount that he had calculated would dissolve the bars was not enough. He concealed the multiple vials of solution in various pockets in one of the many smart jackets that lay strewn across the garage.

At 9pm, they left the relative comfort of Emmett's secret laboratory and began to make their way towards the town square. Emmett risked one look upon the large façade of 1640 Riverside Drive. It looked like a ghost house from where the young man stood. No lights were in the windows and his father's car was not parked in front of the door. His eyes floated over the sight of his family home, wondering what would become of it now that the secrets were bound to spread like wild fire. Marty stood a couple of hundred yards along the road, waiting for Emmett. He understood why his young friend needed the time to look upon what he would soon be betraying. What a complex mind that man had…

Finally, Emmett turned from his home and walked sullenly towards Marty, hands in pockets and eyes facing straight on, not daring to look back now. The only way was forward, to help Mr Corleone and save this unknown man who seemed so dear to his young compatriot. Emmett knew that he would never know the true significance of this man that they were going to help, but the sheer possibility that he might one day know the truth only pushed him further forward.

They descended through the damp streets, splashing through the dark puddles, illuminated only by the awakening street lights. Over the last few hours, Marty had seen the scientific spark of enthusiasm pulse along every vein of the young man who had stood before him, finally discovering his true passion. And if Marty was honest with himself, this enthusiasm had rubbed off on him slightly. He'd never been one for school, but Emmett's nature was infectious. He could see now the beginnings of the man who would become the greatest scientist who had ever lived, the man who had fulfilled that scientific dream of time travel, albeit out of a DeLorean. A true idol in his eyes. In anyone's. And now he was on the scent of a real adventure. It wouldn't quite rival that of Captain Nemo or Otto Liedenbrock, but it was a start.

They reached the town square at about half past nine. The street lamps were now glaring brightly along the paths, seeking out dark corners and illuminating their secrets. The clock tower watched out over the small town square. The bandstand acting as a guard post for its mightier superior.

'So he's in there?' Emmett pointed firmly towards the jailhouse. All inside was dark, apart from the small light emanating from the tiny office behind the doors that led to the rest of the jail. A small, dark smudge could be seen peering through the door – presumably the duty officer, regretting his willingness to handle the night shift.

'Yeah, window closest to the door on the left.' Marty followed Emmett's arm and saw how it teasingly lingered on Doc's cell window.

The pair rain across the town square, passing the front of the Town Hall and slipping by the bandstand. There were still the odd group of people leaving the main square on their way home from desperate, late night shifts. As soon as the final shadows passed from sight and into memory, Marty and Emmett moved closer to the jailhouse. A cautionary glance was thrown across Judge Brown's law firm that lay to their right. Emmett's eyes danced over it, wanting to love the man who resided there, but the actions of the last few hours had changed all that. The building looked deserted now. All had gone home to tell their partners of the scandal that in the morning would rock the town, even if Tannen had warned against it. News spread quickly in Hill Valley. But Emmett held a small torch of hope in his heart that his Pop was sitting in his office, repenting and thinking of an answer that his son might deem understandable. Emmett would not care though; nothing would console his young betrayed heart now.

They reached the cell window, checking that nobody else had left their office a bit later than the others and that the duty officer was still sat firmly at his desk.

'Doc! Hey Doc!' Marty called in nothing more than a whisper. Emmett stood in pure consternation as Marty addressed Mr Sagan as 'Doc', seeing as he'd been called the exact same thing by Mr Corleone several times that day. Must have been a slip of the tongue…

No reply came from the cell. After a few seconds, Marty repeated his call. Still no reply. He gestured for Emmett to give him a bunk up to see through the window, and reluctantly Emmett obliged. _Nobody's going to be suspicious if they find us,_ thought Emmett sarcastically. His eyes were always scanning the town square. He head a door slam shut. It had come from the road that led past the soup kitchen and away from the main square, it could have been his imagination, but you could never be too careful. It was almost too close to call.

Marty could now see past the iron bars. His eyes searched through the darkness for any sign of life, but nothing leapt out at him. And surely if Doc was in there he would've replied to Marty's call. The young time traveller jumped down from Emmett's back, who promptly stretched and checked his jacket for any holes beginning to appear through the fabric. It was all very well carrying the chemical in solution for considered safety, but what if a bung slipped a fraction? What if it gained contact with the air before hitting the desired target? Emmett didn't want to find out. Especially now that it seemed that their 'ex-convict to be' had escaped on his own. Wasting time, knowledge and putting a strain on his emotions that had been put to the test too much today.

'He's not in there, but he has to be. He's not due to be released until tomorrow.' Marty muttered to himself. Oh Doc, where could you be?

'Well, why don't we ask the duty sergeant in there?' Emmett suggested, pointing towards the light coming from the jailhouse.

'Yeah sure and blow our cover.'

'I'm still respected in this town…just, but I might as well take advantage of the little time that my family has left. I wouldn't have been able to get Mr Sagan out of there, but I can try and find out where he is. I can say that my Pop wanted to make sure that Mr Sagan was in good health before he is released tomorrow and I have been sent to judge this fairly. Pop used to trust me with everything…well…almost…' A small silence crippled Emmett's voice. 'Not bad, eh?'

'No, not at all, Emmett. That's genius. Right, you go on ahead and I'll be right behind you.' Said Marty reassuringly, for Emmett and himself.

After a firm pat on the back for luck, Emmett summoned up all of his courage, pulled himself up to his full height and with all the authority he could muster, he marched up the small flight of steps and into the jailhouse. Marty following close behind, his eyes fixed on the cell where Doc had once been. And all of a sudden Marty began to fear the worst; that it was all over.

As Emmett pushed the door open, light bathed his face and he felt safe in this quiet place. The place where all bad men were kept. Emmett was determined that one day Kid Tannen would languish in the direst cage in this jailhouse. One day.

In front of him and Marty sat a small, but well lit office room. There was another door on the opposite side of the room leading to the cells. Next to the door in the corner, stood a typical, firm office desk, furnished in the typical paraphernalia one would find on such a desk. Pens, paper, logbook, a wilting potted plant, a small pristine plaque with 'Duty Sergeant' emblazoned across its front, a set of handcuffs….and a gun...

Sat behind the desk with his over-large cap dropping slightly over his eyes as if ready for the long night slog, sat a young, scrawny looking policeman. His feet were propped lightly on the desk and a newspaper lay open for all to see on his raised lap whilst his head lay back on the filing cabinet that sat behind the desk.

As the door slammed shut behind Marty, the man jumped up like he had heard a gun being fired. The paper fell to the floor whilst his cap dropped on to his outstretched lap. He was no older than Marty or Emmett. A young boy doing a man's job in a darkened world.

'Ah, Emmett. What can I do for you?' He stood to slight attention. Obviously the news of the Judge's disgrace had not yet travelled too far.

'Ah, Officer Danny Parker, how are you doing?' Emmett replied. Both men seemed on good terms, almost pally. _Officer Parker?_ Thought Marty. _As in Jennifer's dad?_ He would certainly be the right age. _How time travel showed you things you would never know, eh?_ Despite knowing that this could not affect his and Jennifer's relationship in the future, Marty felt an overwhelming obligation to keep on this man's good side. 'I see you've drawn the short straw again, Danny.'

'Yeah. Chief keeps putting me on nights. To train me up, he says. To wear me out, I say.' Officer Parker and Emmett chuckled. 'So what do you need from me today?' The young policeman clapped his hands together as if waiting for an order for dinner. Emmett looked a little nervous before he forced himself to go on.

'A serious matter I'm afraid, Danny. I'm here on behalf of Judge Brown and the case of Mr Sagan. As the latter is due to be released tomorrow, Judge Brown has sent me to check that the prisoner is safe and good mannered before he goes out in the morning. Just routine, y'know?' Emmett's voice almost faltered but he was able to keep his line strong.

'Yeah, o'course. Mr Sagan. Right, that's cell one over there. I'll just check in the log. Hold on a minute.' Parker pointed over to the wall, behind which Doc should have been. He moved over to the logbook and started flicking through until he found the latest entry. He ran his finger along the lines of writing until he found what he was looking for. 'Ah, Mr Sagan, cell one. Yep, that's the guy. He was released earlier today and there is some paperwork apparently.' Marty's suspicions were confirmed. Both he and Emmett exchanged concerned glances whilst young Officer Parker went through the top drawer of the filing cabinet and pulled out a small folder. He rummaged around in that until he found the right document. 'Here you go. Official letter from Judge Brown confirming the early release of Mr Carl Sagan, received about an hour ago from another of his assistants. Bit odd that he didn't tell you about it, if you don't mind me saying.' He handed the letter over to Emmett and Marty who examined it closely. Sure enough it detailed the proposed release of Carl Sagan a few hours early.

'Something's wrong.' Emmett whispered to Marty. 'Look at my Pop's signature.' Marty looked at it. It read 'Judge E. Brown' in jaunty, squiggly writing. 'It's not right. Yeah, it's his writing alright, but my Pop's signature has much more flow and is much smoother. Here it's all over the place.' Emmett looked in the direction of his dad's law firm. 'He must have been forced to sign it or something. My dad's a stickler for order and neat work. This isn't him at all. ' With one final look at the fabricated document, Emmett thanked Parker and gave the notice back to him. Whilst Officer Parker returned the file, the truth finally struck Emmett. What with all that was going on today, Marty could hardly blame him for being slightly slow on the uptake. 'Thank you Danny. That's all we needed. Good night. See y'around.' Marty and Emmett bid the policeman a good night and left through the jailhouse doors and embarked into the night. They reached the bottom of the steps and the cool wind licked around their exposed skin. Night had drawn in.

'Kid Tannen has him, doesn't he?' The urgency in Emmett's voice rose slightly as he pushed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, trying not to hit the vials stored in them. Marty nodded solemnly. They had been too late. As soon as Kid Tannen had Doc, it was game over.

'We're too late... I'm sorry, Mr Corleone. I really am.' Emmett's arm reached out and patted Marty on the shoulder. The reassurance was not enough to overcome the loss that Marty felt. He had not only let Doc down, but his younger self. Marty had waded through this man's life, changing it for the worse and all for nothing. The guilt that time travel brought was always one that Marty would never get used to…'Was he a good man?' Emmett piped up.

'Yeah, Emmett. Yeah. He was the best. You'd ha' liked him.'

Suddenly, a collection of footsteps and murmurs could be heard coming from one of the streets that led from the town square. Emmett and Marty flashed their eyes towards the noise and began to move in its direction. They were moving towards the Sisters of Mercy Soup Kitchen. The exact same direction that Emmett had heard that door slam earlier. Now he knew it hadn't been his imagination. The pair stood outside the door to the Kitchens and waited for another noise before forcing their way in. Nothing came, but the door was open anyway. Open all hours for the homeless and sick. Marty knew that if it was still here in a year's time then it would be a central hub for those seeking refuge from the Depression. The door opened on to an empty room. The usually bustling atmosphere of the charity was gone replaced by an open sense of gloom.

'Nobody home.' Emmett stated, still holding the door wide open. 'Maybe it came from round the back. If we go back out, there is a small alleyway that leads to the rear of the soup kitchen. Maybe we'll find something there?' Emmett suggested. The young man's eager nature was beginning to surprise Marty. For all they knew they could have been walking into a trap, but here he was, Emmett Brown, ready to sacrifice anything. For Marty. A man whose real name was hidden from him. Now that was real friendship and trust.

Marty led the way from the dingy kitchen and began to walk along the road leading from the main square. Just as Emmett had said, there was a small alleyway that led behind the Sisters of Mercy Soup Kitchen. The street lights betrayed its entrance, but the alley itself looked dark and foreboding. Allowing Emmett the lead, Marty followed him along the surprisingly long backstreet until they reached its termination. However, their way through was blocked by piles of wooden boxes and barrels. Some were piled six or seven high, presumably all filled with alcohol and other illegal goods. Marty stared on in awe at the sight, whilst Emmett looked on in disgust. A wall high enough to hide any promiscuous activities and one that his own father had not been able to break through. But there were a few gaps in the barricade which the pair could see through. Both Emmett and Marty crouched down to look through different gaps. What stood in front of them told the real truth. The only possible truth.

There was a stark brick wall lined by a wooden fence at the back of the soup kitchen which separated their backyard from that of the jailhouse. In front of that stood a thin wooden pole, attached to which stood the man Marty was looking for. Doc Brown stood absolutely still. Blind folded and staring out towards the road and his hopeful rescuers. He looked like he'd been beaten badly and he was shaking slightly. Enough that Marty questioned whether it was due to the bitter night air or the beating he had been given. Doc was never one to show fear, but these weren't normal circumstances. Otherwise the yard was silent. A couple of orange lights and the bare glow of a few street lamps was all that gave light to this gloomy situation. Casting shadows and darkness over the large yard. Barrels and boxes stood around the courtyard like a fortress, penning him in. The only side that wasn't covered was the one leading into the Soup Kitchen itself.

'Psst…' Young Emmett called to Marty. 'That's him, isn't it?' Marty nodded and Emmett's face sunk. 'He's alive though. That's better than I thought we'd find him if Tannen's involved. We need to go and get him out before…' but before Emmett could finish his sentence, he realised they would be too late. A door on the side of the soup kitchen burst open and four men in large pinstriped suits entered into the ring and stood in a line facing Doc. Another followed them out and went to stand right in front of their captive who had heard the footsteps and was now looking around the courtyard in hope that the footsteps were friendly. It was Kid Tannen. Marty could tell by his arrogant swagger.

'Hey, old man. Wakey wakey. Rise and shine. Time to face the music.' Kid yanked the blindfold from Doc's face and threw it to his feet. Doc's head lolled slightly back and forth to get used to the sight that lay ahead of him. The light blinding him. 'Time's up, Sagan. You were charged with the burning down of a speakeasy. _My speakeasy_ to be exact.' Kid spat in Doc's face and began to walk towards his line of goons. 'You think you're so smart, old man. Acting all innocent, getting that pardon, getting your little friends to help you out...' At that Marty and Emmett stared at each other in confusion. They could see that Tannen was staring straight at the pile of boxes that they were hiding behind. It would have only been a matter of time before they were discovered anyway. Better to get it over and done with now. They heard footsteps getting closer and closer to them and together they turned their heads to see two of Tannen's goons moving heavily towards them. Trapping them in. Both men were carrying guns, bearing down on their prey. Marty and Emmett stood up from their respective hiding places and raised their arms above their heads.

They were both led back round through the soup kitchen and in to the courtyard, still under guard. Kid walked up to the two captives and circled them, sizing them up. He began to laugh and after some slight prompting, so did his goons.

'You think these two schmucks woulda saved you in time. From me? You got nothing, old man. Tie em up with the stiff, boys.' Kid pointed towards Doc, and Marty and Emmett were led to be tied up.

'No, you can't do this. They're nothing to do with me. I am alone responsible for burning down your speakeasy. And you know what, I'm glad I did it.' Doc shouted firmly. Eyeing up his captors as they tied Marty and Emmett to the same pole.

'Shut it, gramps. In a few minutes you won't be glad no more.' Kid laughed again and walked around to the back of the line of henchmen. As the two muscle men walked to join the line already present, Marty began to understand what might happen to them, that was if his knowledge of films about the 1930s was anything to go by.

'I'm sorry I got you into this Marty.' Doc whispered into his young friend's ear. 'My fault again, eh? Always has been. I knew that one day my tampering would lead to something like this. And you, young man…' Doc turned his head to his younger self. 'Thank you, and I'm sorry for what I have done.' Emmett and Doc were trembling slightly. One man, different points in his time stream, brought together and experiencing the same fear. Only the horror of time travel could inflict this much hurt.

'Hey, Kid, so what are you gonna do?' Marty shouted. If there was one thing Marty could do, it was to hide his own fear and act like the boisterous kid from the 80s that he always had been. Time travel had changed him and the way he saw other people, but underneath he would always be the kid from 1985 who was late to school and who followed through with what he felt was necessary, even in the face of danger. Kid swung round and faced his three captives.

'What am I gonna do? Ha! I'm not gonna do nothing. But these guys are. Take it away boys.' And with that, Kid turned to face the wall of liquor that hid them from the outside world. The line of henchmen suddenly all reached into their breast pockets and pulled out a gun each. All of them angled the shots so that they would cause maximum damage. They had been trained for moments like this. A good old fashioned firing line up.

Doc, Marty and Emmett merely stared at their captors, straight in the eyes and then towards one another. At least Marty would not die alone. He had always feared that if he died on one of these journeys that he would be alone. Left dead somewhere and somewhen where nobody would find him and nobody would be able to tell his family where he was. At least here he was amongst two of the person he most admired in the world.

'You scared, old man?' Kid called, triumphantly. He was spinning back now so that he could see the fear in his enemy's eyes.

'As long as the heart beats, as long as body and soul keep together, I cannot admit that any creature endowed with a will has need to despair of life.' Doc called out, loud and proud.

'Jules Verne.' Emmett breathed and looked towards this strange man that stood between him and his day's companion. If Jules Verne was the last thing he heard then he knew that there was still hope wherever they would be going after this life. Doc and Emmett smiled at one another. A mutual understanding that one could only have with one's self. The understanding of honesty.

'And you know what, Tannen? You have no concept of what life is. You have no will and no soul. And we pity you.' Doc's triumphant chorus echoed around the small alleyway, leaving silence in its wake.

'Your words mean nothing, old man. Take care of em, boys' A loud hail of bullets exploded from the small guns. A torrent of bangs and flashes set forth from their prisons and unleashed their power on the Hill Valley night sky. And then…all was silent.

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Thank you for reading xxx


	9. Men, Mercy and Malt

Hello all! Sorry I'm a day late with this one. Here is the next part of 'Heavy Stuff' Hope you enjoy!

-x-x-x-

The dark, shrill silence after a hail of violence speaks volumes. The noiseless sound of a space can tell you it's story. It betrays the truth beyond the possible means that speech or text can. The emptiness that hung in the air spoke of the shots that were fired deep into thought. It told of the final gasp of breath before life ticked towards its inevitable conclusion. And it warned those who dwelt within the silence that what a condemned man yearns for before his time ends, is not more time, but resolution and a worthy end to his span.

As the hail of shots rang mockingly through the hollow air, those who had released the shrill piercing screeches into the world stood still. Guns raised and motionless. Selfish grins were plastered across their smug, careless faces. They were enjoying the primitive impulse to laugh in the face of darkness. Here they stood, toying with death as though he was but a frightened child, playing in their shadows.

The three prisoners stood in the shadows too, whisperingly silent. Eyes wide shut and hands held; they waited for their darkness to fall. But their darkness never came…

In turn, each man unsurely allowed his eyes to flutter open. In front of them stood the six henchmen, just as they had before the onslaught. A crude, jutting chuckle came from their boss. At first, it sounded cold and closed, like the man who made it was trying to conceal it from the world. But what the world tries to conceal is soon let out for all to see, no matter how much one tries to keep it a secret. Tannen's venomous laugh pierced the air. He turned away from the walls of barrels that surrounded them and back to face the three captives.

'You bastard!' Marty muttered, his gaze targeting Tannen's cruel black eyes. The shadows of his hat shrouded Kid from the only light that fell on the yard, but Marty could see the wicked, playful joy of a small child who had just crossed the boundary between right and wrong as it buried deeper into Tannen's mind. Kid wandered around the firing line and towards his prisoners. He was laughing. The man, whose footsteps creaked with every movement, was laughing. He was within a foot of his prey before he stopped and looked at them. Just looked at them with those shark's eyes. The young boy who had been betrayed by his father, his friend who had been so keen to get stuck in to the mess that was Hill Valley and the old man whose actions condemned them all.

Kid grinned malevolently as he stared deep into Doc Brown's eyes. Digging deeper and deeper until he found what he was looking for in his prisoner and that was Fear. The most elusive subject and yet, oh so, satisfying to see it enflamed in his fellow man. But Tannen easily shrugged off Doc's mixed expression of relief, surprise and pity under the orange lighting.

'Blanks, old man.' Kid chuckled, sneeringly. 'That's all they were. Always gets 'em going. It's nice to add a lil spice to the event for those who _truly_ deserve it.' Kid reached into one of the pockets of his suit jacket and pulled out a cigarette which he lit and smoked in Doc's face. Blowing ash into the man's eyes. Emmett and Marty looked at Kid with pure contempt. Now this _was_ power, thought Kid. 'But I ain't messin no more. My boys here have had their games. Now it's about time to bring this session to its conclusion, don't you think? Eh, boys?' Tannen called to his men who responded with grunts of approval. 'Once and for…'

A single gunshot interrupted his statement. It pounded through the night sky, silencing all who heard it. All heads, except Tannen's, turned to the back of the courtyard where Marty and Emmett had hidden earlier. A tumble of boxes and barrels were pushed aside and three figures burst through the rubble. Some barrels smashed as the cavalry arrived and sent alcohol flowing over the courtyard. Officer Danny Parker came through first, his gun raised, with his sights switching between the seven felons who stood in his way. Next through was a figure that nobody was expecting, least of all the captives. The Honourable Judge Erhardt Brown strode into the yard, his German pomposity exuding over every step. A gun also rested in his hand, smoking slightly and raised towards Tannen. He resolutely took his place, a pace or two in front of Officer Parker. A step or two further into the lion's den. Last, but not least, the most unlikely person walked into the situation. Edna Strickland. She looked completely out of context in this theatre of men, mercy and malt. She stood firm by Judge Brown's side, in line with Parker. The blue dress stood as a stark contrast against the men wearing large suits and Emmett's cardigan and bowtie.

'Nobody move!' Shouted the young policeman. His hands trembling slightly, surprised at the sound of his own voice. 'Drop your weapons!' And all men did so.

'Pop?'

_Edna?_ Thought Marty.

'Kid Tannen, you are under arrest in view of the laws set down by the Constitution and accepted by the founding fathers of Hill Valley for crimes inexhaustible in number.' Proclaimed Judge Brown who was now pointing his gun straight at the back of Kid's head. Tannen was still facing Doc, Marty and Emmett, lightly puffing at the cigarette that hung from his lips. He grinned maliciously at young Emmett before relieving his mouth of the cigarette and biting his haggard lips. He slowly turned his neck so that his view of the recent arrivals was unbroken. Then, just as slowly as his neck, he turned his body so that there was a clear path between him and Judge Brown. Marty thought he moved like a cobra; unnerving and silky. There was something, altogether not right about Kid Tannen. He could see where the future generations of his family got it from.

'I said do not move.' Reiterated Officer Parker. His voice now booming over the silent night. Tannen dropped the still burning cigarette that he had gripped between his finger-tips, stubbing it out with his heel. The flaming ashes petered out, releasing a small tuft of smoke which rose into the air and towards the sky. Then Tannen began to stride confidently towards the Judge. His goons had dropped their guns to the floor and now watched as their boss began to corner the lowly Judge. It was time for him to show them how it was done.

'I will remind you once more, and only once, to stay still.' But Kid kept walking. Step by step. Pace by pace. 'Or I'll be forced to use extreme measures, Tannen.' Confirmed Officer Parker, whose tones danced over the air. Judge Brown fastened his grip on the gun that was still aimed at Tannen's head. His cool German aspect hiding whatever might have wanted to end this all now. Emmett stared at the gun that lay in his father's hand. His Pop had never been a man to show a huge favouring for any form of violence. Finally to see him fighting for something was a shock indeed. Marty briefly turned towards Doc who shared the same look of pure anticipation and worry as Emmett. The same feelings could be seen wandering through Doc's mind. This man was his father too. It was a shared moment of over-reaching joy and disbelief. None of the captives could have guessed what was to happen and even if they had, their speculations would have been purely for their own assurance rather than seeking for truth.

'Marty. This is our chance.' Doc whispered from the corner of his mouth, eyes still firmly clamped on Tannen and his Pop.

'I can't get out, Doc. The rope's too tight.' Marty struggled with the rope that tied his hands around the pole. They were going to be forced to stay and watch whatever was about to unfold. And still Kid moved on. Closer and closer until finally, Tannen stood face to face with the gun held by Judge Brown. The barrel was aimed straight between his eyebrows. Even Erhardt Brown, a man who abhorred violence and had hardly held a gun before, could not fail to find his spot and make the shot count.

'I have a question, Mr Brown. Just the one.' Tannen revealed as he eyed the gun's slight sway as it glanced over his forehead. 'Why are these civvys here? The DRC, I understand, but what about your lady friend? A very pretty doll. Too pretty to be in the middle of a firing line. ' Kid's gaze switched from the man whose gun was embedded in his temples to the woman who stood beside him.

'In this day and age, Mr Tannen, beauty is not everything. Knowledge and the spreading of this knowledge is what matters. I am here to make sure that all is done in the right course of justice. I represent the people Mr Tannen…and I am here to document the events for the people. And of course…as an aid to events, should proceedings require me.' She elaborated, patting a handbag that hung by her side. Her words were full of menace and disapproval, but revealing nothing. Tannen shone his razor smile at Edna.

'Erhardt, you got yourself a keeper. Almost too good.' He hissed.

'I'm warning you, Tannen. For the very…last... time.' Erhardt's words confirmed his intent.

'Kill me.' Kid whispered after a short silence. His sly grin spreading across his face like the plague. This reply prompted a gasp from his followers who began to move slightly closer to their boss. 'Do it, old man. D'ya hear? I said, do it. Come on. Pull the trigger. End my days. And know that you will always be the man who killed Kid Tannen in cold blood. Right in front of your son.' Kid looked up to the sky and stared at the glistening moon that had just sneaked out from behind the clouds to bear witness to proceedings. He laughed. 'That's two disappointments in one day for sonny over there.' He raised his voice so that he was sure Emmett would hear every word. 'Don't think I'd be able to deal with that if I was you, son. My father, an alcoholic and a murderer…' He spat. 'Oh how the mighty have fallen.'

'Not today, Kid.' Suddenly Tannen flashed round to meet young Emmett; face to face. Judge Brown's gun now pressed into the back of the captor's head. Kid's men who had moved closer together were now edging towards their boss. Officer Parker and Edna circled the group, their weapons ready for use, so that they were close to the action and not able to run away. Emmett had slipped his ties and had crept up behind Tannen and was now close enough to whisper in his ear. With a wink to his father, Erhardt stepped aside and together, he and Emmett pushed Tannen with all their might and sent the Hill Valley gangster sprawling into his goons. Those who were free walked around to the side of the courtyard where Marty and Doc were still secured. They watched as the supposed controllers of Hill Valley lay on the floor, trying to pull themselves together. Emmett felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder and turned to see his father's beaming eyes looking in to his.

'You know what to do, son.' Young Doc smiled to himself as he watched Hill Valley's most wanted man stumble over his own henchmen. Finally, the band of men scrambled to their feet and stood in a ragged line facing those who had confronted them.

'You ain't heard the last of this.' Tannen shouted, wiping a trail of blood from his face. 'Let em have it boys.' But young Emmett was too quick for them. Before the six henchmen could find their guns, Emmett had thrown something from his pocket and onto the barrels that had fallen to the floor as his father and company had entered the courtyard. The vial smashed instantly and the chemical inside mixed with the liquor that had pooled into patches of liquid on the floor. The puddles ignited and carried their torch to the next crate and the next and the next. Rapidly, an almighty blaze was tearing around the yard. Consuming the wooden boxes and barrels, reacting with the air and the excess alcohol to create a spreading inferno. All those who were in the courtyard were knocked aside by the sheer force of the fire sweeping through the cascade of boxes and barrels. All of a sudden, it seemed that the fire had spread across half of the contents of this small yard behind the Sisters of Mercy Soup Kitchen. The door leading into the Kitchens was swamped by fire and blocked from any kind of escape. Kid and his gang stared in disbelief at the surrounding walls of burning liquor, also being thrown aside by the absolute power of the blast. All their work, lost. Then, pulling themselves together, they started to run for the exit, leaving the burning lot at the back of the Sisters of Mercy Soup Kitchen for those unlucky enough to be left behind. As the fire roared around the boxes, Emmett had run back to the pole and released Doc and Marty from the rope that secured them.

'Thank you, Emmett.' Marty shouted, clapping his young mentor on the back. The boy from 1985 could see the fear across Emmett's face. Adrenaline was fuelling the young man's decisions, but sometimes the best decisions could be made when excitement and fear were combined. Doc and Marty stumbled towards the rest of the group who were picking themselves up from the floor and ducking out of the way of the raging flames. Parker was helping Edna who had been thrown to the floor and looked even more shocked than the rest of the party. The whole situation had escalated beyond anything that they had expected.

'We've got to get out of here before the whole place goes up.' Shouted Erhardt over the deafening fire. Parker, Emmett, Judge Brown, Doc, Marty and Edna ran towards the closing hole of fire that led through the alleyway to the safety of the streets. They leapt through the ever-closing loop of flames as it progressively engulfed whatever was left of Tannen's stock, reducing it to a huge bonfire that would soon be completely impossible to control. But as soon as Marty skipped through the clear pathway, a burning barrel fell from atop its wall of other flaming wooden and metal barrels and into the path of Edna. The five men stood for a few seconds, waiting for the woman to emerge from the flames or at least to hear her cry out.

'Miss Strickland?' Called Erhardt over the growing fire, getting as close to it as he dared. There was no reply from inside as smouldering flames licked closer towards the outer world. 'She's going to burn in there.' Said the Judge with the barest hint of belief. Someone was dying and he was unable to help. Had this evening been worth it after all?

Without another thought having time to pass, Judge Brown saw a flash of speed as his son ran past him and through the smallest of gaps in the flames and back into the inferno. 'NO, EMMETT!' Cried Erhardt who tried to follow his son into the fire. It took all three who remained to keep the Judge back. Doc pulled his father round to stare him right in the face.

'No, Erhardt! If you go in after Emmett, you won't come out alive.'

'But what of my son?' Judge Brown repeated, still trying to push his way towards the burning courtyard, but still kept back by those who could not afford another death on their hands. Doc considered his father's statement. What would be better? To tell the truth or to tell him a lie?

'He might have a chance.' Doc suggested. As his words left him, Judge Brown began to calm down slightly and although he didn't accept Sagan's words, they were better than nothing. 'I'll watch and be alert for when they come out. _If_…they come out.' He sat on the sidewalk and watched the once clear view into the alleyway. Doc watched his father as he saw that the man had lost almost all hope. He turned to Marty.

'Marty run to the fire station. It's on the corner of what will be Philpott Avenue in 1985. Go. Get help. '

'But what about you, Doc?' Marty breathed heavily. Getting air into his lungs after the flames that were eating up all the oxygen was proving difficult.

'Time will tell Marty.' And with Doc's words ringing in his ears, Marty ran as fast as he could towards the fire station. Speeding towards the future, whatever that might entail now that the younger version of his mentor had thrown himself into the mercy of the flames. As Doc had said, time would tell.

-x-x-x-

Thank you for reading! xxx


	10. The Burning Truth

Right, here is the next part of Heavy Stuff! Hope you enjoy what is to come.

-x-x-x-

Marty ran to the fire station on what would become Philpott Avenue and had called them out to the Soup Kitchens as fast as he could. He hoped beyond all things that there would be at least a duty sergeant like there had been at the police station. Thankfully, there had been ten of them who had been on duty at the time, whilst another seven appeared at the scene some time later, and had driven as fast as they could to the blazing fire and the heart of Hill Valley.

As they arrived on site, the flames were still swarming around the building. Locals, who had been woken by the commotion, had come from the surrounding area with buckets of water and blankets trying to help and tame the flames. The heat was astonishingly fierce. As the firemen stormed into the blaze, they had found two huddled figures, unconscious, lying closely together under a precariously swinging metal barrel. It was keeping them safe but the fire was slowly pushing it closer and closer towards them. As the other firemen attempted to start quelling the fire, amidst the swelling flames, another two fire fighters had pulled the two bodies from the flames and out onto the street outside. The night wind was spreading the flames faster and it was a wonder that the two people had not already been too badly burned.

Erhardt, who had been sitting on the curb opposite the inferno, held back by Carl Sagan and Marty, suddenly shot up as he saw the two lifeless figures being carried from the fire.

'NO!' He cried, as he ran over to the pair, who were now being treated by a local nurse who had been drafted in at short notice. Marty and Doc watched on, unable to bring themselves to follow the Judge. 'Emmett? What is wrong with them?' Erhardt repeated to the increasingly aggravated nurse who was just trying to do her job.

'I am trying to assess this, Mr Brown. Now please. Give me some space. Do you want this young lady and your son to live?' The last words cut through the air, like a knife cutting through butter. Erhardt stood, somewhat taken aback by the woman's fierce words and returned to his place on the curb. Doc and Marty looked at each other and then towards Erhardt. In front of them sat a broken man. Someone who sat on the edge of reason. Marty couldn't imagine what Doc was thinking. To see his own father react like this.

'And you don't remember this?' Marty whispered.

'None of this happened before. You didn't come back to 1931. You never interacted with me and therefore none of this took place. But through our meddling, we have once again disrupted the space time continuum. And now it seems that my very life is in the balance.' Doc's eyes wandered over to the nurse who, along with help from varying women from the town, was attempting to resuscitate the two young people. In the background, the fire was being successfully beaten back, but despite the roaring carnage that it was wreaking on this little corner of Hill Valley, it didn't mean anything to Marty. The fire and anger and rage brought about by it was eclipsed by the personal human struggle that was being played out on the road in front of them.

Finally, a reaction was received from Edna, who sat straight up right, coughing and spluttering. Her high pitched breaths taking in as much air as possible. She was grabbing onto the shoulders of one of the town's women and being cradled by her. Tears running down her cheeks, the memories of what had just happened were coming back to her. Shock and relief summed up Edna's feelings right now. However, whilst Edna was being lifted to her feet with the aid of some of the women, who had clamoured around the pair, and having a blanket wrapped around her, there was still no sign from Emmett. Doc remained by his father's side, whilst Marty ran over to the crowd, which was steadily increasing around Emmett. Some eyes were turned towards the boy's father out of pure pity. If he didn't wake up soon, he might never do so.

'Let me through.' Marty called as he pushed his way through the crowd and within seconds was by Emmett's side. A blanket had been wrapped around young Doc and the nurse was still trying to resuscitate the eerily quiet figure of Marty's mentor. Marty grabbed Emmett's hand in his. It was frightfully cold. Worryingly so. Marty's eyes stared back through the gap that was just starting to close in the crowd. He could see Erhardt sat on the road, with Doc by his side. His arm wrapped around his father's shoulder for comfort and protection. Marty whipped his head away from that sight; inside it was killing him. He had caused this. He should have listened to Doc's initial instructions and never come back for him. But then Doc would have died anyway, shot by Kid's goons and dumped somewhere where nobody would find him. What kind of end was that? Time travel threw up so many decisions, some of which could be right, some could be wrong…the worrying thing was that sometimes there was no right answer and time just had to run its course.

'Come on, Doc. Hold on. You can do it. Don't you dare leave me now!' Marty thought aloud. His hand clenched tightly around his days companions'. There was silence and the nurse pulled away from her attempts. Marty's enquiring eyes looked at her for an answer, but he feared that he already knew what she would say.

'I'm sorry. He's gone.' She regretfully announced so that only Marty could hear. Marty's heart sank. No. He couldn't be dead. Not now. Not like this. There was no way that Marty would believe this. He looked mournfully at the boy who had accompanied him on his final adventure and there was no way that this could be happening.

'No, Doc. No. Please' Marty muttered. A tear ran down his cheek. This hurt more than words. He looked through the tiny gaps in the crowd and could see Doc's head bowed slightly. He knew what had happened. But what would happen to _him _now…?

Then just as the nurse was about to pack away her things and lift the blanket over Emmett's face, an exhalation of breath came from his still form. Then, he too spluttered, coughed and choked back to life and within seconds was sat bolt upright, as if an electric charge had been passed through his system. There was a raucous applause as the small crowd cheered Emmett and the nurse. The fire fighters who were rushing in and out of the blaze stopped for a moment to revel in the feeling that nobody had died this evening. Death was always the worst part of their job to deal with and here tonight, that spectre had been beaten.

At the cheer of the crowd, Erhardt had leapt from his place like a jack in a box and ran to Emmett's side. Doc too raised himself from the floor, and more slowly made his way to the cheering crowd, some of whom were returning to help the fire fighters who had nearly put the flames out entirely. A sudden light relief took hold of Doc's heart. He could believe it now. All was going to be alright. At last…

As the boy was pulled to his feet, like Edna had been, Erhardt forced his way through the crowd and embraced his son. From what Marty could see, Emmett's face displayed a mixture of confusion and utter happiness. A most horrific ordeal had been overcome and now he was alive and able to live with the consequences of his actions.

-x-x-x-

And now, twenty minutes later, Emmett sat on the curb, his blue cardigan singed and his green bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. His head was cupped in his hands and he was staring dejectedly down at the asphalt. More blankets had been wrapped around him as people had discovered his fortune. But any happiness that he may have been harbouring was hiding deep inside of him. Like Edna, his memories were returning and the ghastly images of the last few hours were replaying in his mind. If there was one thing that Emmett had gleaned from this day's experiences, it was to never take anything for granted. Not even your own life. He now knew, that when fire burns, it devours. The wall of barrels and boxes had been eaten up by the flames, leaving nothing but ash and cinders. The inferno had only been stopped progressing on to the police station by the large brick wall that separated the two yards. It had been a very close call for all involved and the reality of it all was sinking in and Emmett didn't know if he was ready for reality quite yet.

His father was sat talking to the Chief of the Police with Carl Sagan and Danny Parker in the cover of the bandstand against the gloomy night. No doubt retelling the tale like an heroic odyssey. Like the truth was some form of malleable metal, ready to be twisted into whatever shape was necessary to shine a good light over the situation. Emmett just wanted the truth to be simple and honest and to tell the real story of what happened over the last few hours, just like anybody should. Edna was being treated by a local ambulance that had just arrived on the scene, at least she was safe.

As soon as this thought hit his mind, another questionable truth walked over to him and sat by his side. Emmett wrapped the blankets tighter around his shoulders and braced himself against the night air and the approaching conversation between this unbelievable person.

'I thought you didn't like the woman.' Marty joked after some time of silence. Inside he was exhausted, but he had to be there for Emmett's sake.

'Who? Edna? I…I don't. Doesn't mean she should have...b…b…burnt.' Emmett replied, staring into the centre of the road. Unwilling to look at Marty for the moment.

'Yeah, I s'pose.' There was silence. 'I'm sorry, Emmett. I truly am.' What else could he say?

'I shouldn't have listened to you. It's as much my fault as yours, Marty.'

'If you want t….you called me Marty?' No hint of surprise crossed the boy from 1985's voice. He was slightly taken aback by the name, but he should have expected it. Emmett was no ordinary person. He was going to be Doc. No….he _was _Doc. There he was. Doctor Emmett Lanthrop Brown sat right in front of him, ready to tackle the world.

'I heard Mr Sagan call you that in the firing line. I suspected that you were lying to me ever since you said your name was Michael Corleone. You seemed to question it….almost as if you blurted it out like a name recalled from memory. People don't do that with their real name. There's normally more conviction than a mere memory.' Emmett's sincerity pierced Marty's protective bubble. He couldn't hide behind the name anymore. There was a moment of silence where neither man wished to speak. 'And I also doubt the true identity of Mr Sagan. You kept calling him 'Doc'. Is that his real name? Just 'Doc'? Ha. He's a peculiar man.' Emmett's view leapt to Doc who was gesticulating wildly in the bandstand. So much so that Erhardt, who was doing the same thing when he spoke, had to move out of the bandstand for there to be enough room. Emmett chuckled slightly, before doubting even that. 'I don't know what it is about him, but I feel like I know him, and yet…he can seem so distant. I'd hate to be like that…' Another silence. 'Because if that's the kind of life you lead, I don't understand you. Yes, sure, it seems exciting and fun on the top, but how do you know when to stop? Because, Marty, even though I've only just met you, that kind of life should not continue until something goes so terribly wrong that you cannot undo it. How close have you come to destroying something you care for? How many lies have you had to tell?' Emmett's eyes were glistening with untold emotion. The young man couldn't even explain to himself why he was saying what he was, but all he knew was that for once in his life they were his own words. Not dictated by a higher authority.

'More than I can count, Emmett. And yes, I have lied to you today. My only excuse is that it was to keep you and the people of Hill Valley safe. Now you can believe that if you want, but I came here on a mission and I had to fulfil it no matter what. But I should have trusted you more than I did. And for that I'm sorry.' Marty admitted. What he really wanted to say was the truth and he knew that Emmett wanted that too. However, Marty knew that the truth could still hurt and cause massive problems in the space time continuum…or whatever it was Doc normally said.

Suddenly, Marty felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Doc's glowing eyes staring back at him under the shadows of the night. Emmett too looked up at the man, wrapping his blanket tighter around his shoulders as the cold wind began to bite.

'Time to go.' Doc stated whimsically. Marty pushed himself up from the floor and went to stand by Doc. 'Said your goodbyes?' Marty knew that he couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Emmett. He'd put the guy through so much. He owed him at least a goodbye, even if he wasn't ready for the truth quite yet. Emmett, whose eyes had not left the curious pair in front of him, watched as Marty approached him. Unsure whether to stand and rise to his friend's level or whether to stay sitting. Hold on a minute…friend?

'Emmett. I'm going now. Heading out of town for a while.' Marty could feel Doc's eyes staring into the back of his head, waiting.

'You're leaving? Now? But there are so many questions you need to answer.' Emmett's eyes were pleading, but not grovelling. Marty could understand why Emmett had so many questions. But as is often the case, Marty wouldn't be able to answer them to Emmett's detailed expectation, and as is the curse of all time travellers, there wouldn't be enough time to answer them all anyway...

'I'm sorry, Emmett. Trains leaving soon. Time to say goodbye.' Marty lied.

'Well, can you answer me this…' Emmett asked, resolutely leaping from the curb to stand by Marty's side. 'Will I see you again?' Marty's face tried to hide his blatant smile, but again, here was another thing that young Emmett would have to wait for. Marty's head turned to Doc, who just nodded in approval.

'I can guarantee it.' Marty replied, somewhat cornily. Emmett smiled and as an awkward moment faded away, he hugged Marty.

'Thank you.' Emmett whispered, sounding genuinely thankful for everything. The impact somebody could have on a life was unbelievable and it was through time travel that Marty had been able to experience it. Nevertheless, he had to consider Emmett's earlier words. That his kind of life should not continue until something goes so terribly wrong that one cannot undo it. How long would it be before he reached _his_ crisis point?

As Emmett pulled away from the hug, a gleam of sheer relief could be seen across his cold face before his eyes returned to the floor, almost out of embarrassment. He'd never hugged anybody in public before. Not even his mother. Maybe this was something new that the day had brought on. An openness that young Emmett wanted to embrace whole-heartedly. Who knew when another change like this would come around? It was almost as uncertain as lightning…

As Marty waved goodbye to Emmett and began to walk along the street, he suddenly remembered something. This way he could give Emmett the truth.

'Oh Emmett, I have something for you. But you have to promise to follow the instructions on the piece of paper, okay?' Emmett nodded as Marty delved into one of his many suit pockets and thrust a slither of neatly folded, slightly crumpled paper into the young boys hands. In small, swerving hand writing, the words:

Do not open until 1985

Emmett looked confused as he read these words, but knew that he had to fulfil his promise to his friend. He nodded again and placed the slip of paper in the pocket of his pullover. His hands wandered for a moment as he considered handing over a gift too. After a few seconds, he pulled the loosened bow tie from around his neck and threw it to Marty, who caught it easily and held it high in the air.

'Just to remember me by, in case our paths don't cross again, eh?' Emmett joked, his eyes full of hope that it would never come to that. Marty acknowledged the gift and pushed it into one of his many pockets. He walked back to Doc, who had stood and watched the exchange.

'You sure about that?' Doc questioned.

'Positive.' Replied Marty, a smile plastered across his face.

As the two men walked away from the smouldering scene of the Sisters of Mercy Soup Kitchen, they looked at what they had done. They had caused this carnage, but at the same time, history had been written. And that was the job of a time traveller when the circumstances called for it. Doc and Marty reached the corner, which would lead them back to where Marty had left the DeLorean, and turned back to take one last look. Doc gazed at the whole picture. The smoking remains, the commotion, the crowd. Whilst Marty's eyes were focussed on Emmett, who had wandered over to the ambulance at the end of the lane. Now, by its side sat Emmett and Edna. Holding hands. Marty smirked and rounded the corner which led back to the future.

-x-x-x-

Thank you for reading. Hope you're enjoying it. Last part next! Thank you again! Xxx


	11. Outskirt truth

Hello you lovely people! If you made it this far 'Well done!' It has been a long ride. Before you start reading this last chapter, I would like to say thank you so much for reading it. I've had such a good time writing it and it has been such a relief to do something creative. I love writing Back to the Future and hope that you've enjoyed my take on it. Well….here it is…I present to you, the last chapter of Heavy Stuff. I hope you enjoy! :D xxx

-x-x-x-

The weary travellers walked along the road that they knew so well. Marty and Doc had walked up and down it countless times in the future, when both fields and buildings lined its edges. Now as the night time darkness settled in for the evening, the two men were approaching their days end. When Marty had arrived from 1985, he had made sure to park the DeLorean in its usual place. Over the years, Marty had come to see this spot as a temporal car parking space. 'Time machines only.'

They reached the DeLorean, Doc patting the stainless steel surface as if it were Einstein or Copernicus. A smile dancing across his face.

'There she is. Safe and sound. Ha. Back there in my cell, I didn't think I'd ever see her again. Or you for a matter of fact.' Marty watched as Doc walked around the car, checking that there hadn't been any accidents on arrival. 'My message on the recall device did remind you to bring extra plutonium, didn't it? The Mr Fusion energy converter has developed some teething problems. Keeps jumping time tracks. I was supposed to arrive in April 1932.' Marty nodded, thinking back to what seemed like years ago, but in actuality had only been this morning.

'Yeah, I followed the instructions to…'Marty had to stop and smile before he spoke. He knew that this was one of the sentences he never thought he'd say. '…your plutonium stores in the basement.'

'Ah good. Good. We can leave then.' Doc gesticulated as he reached the front of the DeLorean. 'Don't suppose you can drive us back. You have the key and the events of this evening are starting to catch up with me. It's been a long day.'

'You're telling me.' Marty remarked. Doc walked around to the right side of the car, pulled up one of the gull-wing doors and slipped into his seat. Exhausted. Marty rummaged around in the pockets of his suit and found the keys languishing in the bottom inside inlet. He wasn't used to all these places to conceal items. He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door and slumped into the driver's seat. Pure comfort. He then placed the key into the ignition and was about to start her up, but there was something else. Marty had a few questions for Doc.

'Doc, can I ask you something?' Marty could see Doc nod as he started to fasten his seatbelt. 'What were you doing back in 1931 in the first place?' The question seemed to linger in the air; unanswered. Doc looked him straight in the eye, knowing that the truth would have had to come out eventually. Doc knew he couldn't lie to Marty.

'Those gang planks on the clock tower aren't just for the builders to erect those statues, you know?' Doc started to rummage around in the inside pocket of his jacket. After bringing out a watch with strange symbols instead of numbers, a bundle of string and a screwdriver, Doc seemed to have found what he was looking for. His notebook. The thing was massive. Wedged shut by a rubber band, paper practically bulging out of the sides. All with Doc's little notes and ideas scribbled onto every side. After Doc had replaced the clock, the string and the screwdriver, he removed the elastic band and started to rifle through the notebook. Marty eagerly watched as his mentor flicked through to the middle pages. He brought out a wedge of paper, before handing the notebook itself to Marty. 'Could you keep a hold of that for a moment?' Doc began rustling through the pile of paper until he found two photographs. He handed the rest of the paper to Marty, who placed the remaining sheets back inside the notebook. Doc then turned the photos so that Marty could see them. The first image was of the clock tower. Marty couldn't tell when the image was from, but the statues were there and the gangplanks were gone. Some time after 1931 then.

'Look at the photo. What do you see that's strange about it?' Marty glanced over it. There was no point scanning it if Doc was going to tell him anyway.

' I don't see anything strange or out of place…'

'What about this?' Doc pointed to a small square smudge in the bottom right hand corner of the image. Marty leaned in closer and indeed could not remember it being there before.

'Yeah. What is it, Doc?' Wordlessly, Doc flicked the front image to the back and replaced it with the other photo. It was a zoomed in image of the small smudge. Here the lines were more defined. To Marty, it looked like a plaque that you'd find outside an office door. Like Judge Brown's.

'Read it.' As Marty took both of the photos into his hands to view them under a better light, he read out the words of the enhanced image:

In loving memory of Marty

Marty's eyes widened as he re-read the words on the photo.

'Geez, Doc. Is that about me?'

'That's the hunch I was following. I found it in my visit down to the library. I was planning a trip to a different time period for Clara's birthday. Somewhere in her future, but my past. I wanted to choose somewhen nice. I was just flicking through the papers from 1931, my childhood just seemed appealing, everybody remembers being that age, and I saw this picture. But, like you, I didn't remember seeing that smudge. So I found another image and enhanced that.' Marty couldn't believe it. It had to be a fake. A fabrication. 'I thought 'Great Scott, what if that's my Marty?' So I checked through the records for anybody called Marty who had lived and died in Hill Valley. And you know what? There aren't any until you're born in 1968, and I have a sneaking suspicion that your name is a result of our trip back to 1955. And I couldn't find any paperwork regarding the production of the plaque in 1931. So much bureaucracy in the way they could barely tie their shoelaces. I came back in time to 1931 to see if this _was _you. I started asking around and was on my way to my Pop's office for some information, he always worked late, when the speakeasy burnt down and I was arrested.' Doc's story didn't seem real. Marty wanted to question it further, but his voice betrayed him. After a few seconds, he found it again and wanted to dig deeper. He was still looking at the photo as if it were a fake. It just wasn't possible.

'When is this photo from?'

'Well, the plaque isn't in any photos from 1931, so I looked at 1932 and all of a sudden, midway through the year, there it is. I must have skipped into the 1932 papers by accident.'

'Does it give a date?'

'Sadly not. There are no reports about the death of a 'Marty' in Hill Valley either. It just appears.'

'So I die somewhere between late 1931 and early 1932, but we don't know when. You said you wanted to arrive in April 1932…'

'But the converter for Mr Fusion was bust…yeah. The plaque appeared in May and I thought April was a good place to start.'

'Well, come on. Let's go. We have to find out if it is me, and how, and why? And…'

'Marty, calm down.' Doc placed his left hand reassuringly on Marty's shoulder, 'I know it's a shock, but we have to stay calm. I know how you feel. I've been through this too remember. Keeping our heads is the only way that we're going to overcome this. Now if we go back to 1985, we can see if the photo is still like that. Maybe you were supposed to die here in the firing line or the fire itself. Maybe bureaucracy got in the way and that's why it took so long for the plaque to be installed. There wouldn't be any other reason to come back to 1931 but for me. Maybe history has been rewritten. If so, all will be back to normal when we return to 1985.' Doc stated. Marty nodded, shaking slightly at the thought that he might have died today. He knew he hadn't, but the thought was still unbelievably overwhelming. That worry of dying where nobody would be able to grieve his loss was still as potent as anything in Marty's mind. Without hesitation, Marty began to set the time circuits to a few hours after he had left in November 1985.

'Right, ready to go?' Marty called, trying to stay calm, his mind set on the task at hand. But he did not receive a reply. After a few moments, Marty enquired, 'Doc? Are you alright, Doc?' Doc was staring down towards his feet. He lifted his head and looked sincerely at Marty. He then raised his left arm, only for both of the men to see his hand slowly fading. All of a sudden, the whole of Doc started to shimmer out of existence.

'I'm sorry, Marty.' Then Doc started to flicker and became far less defined, like a ghost. Marty's mentor looked at him as though seeking acceptance. And then, faster than a blink of an eye, Doc disappeared.

'NO DOC!' Marty shouted at emptiness. Doc was gone. 'No. I've got to get back. Got to find you.' The events of the last few hours had caught up with them and now Marty was left alone. What could have changed so much that Doc disappeared completely and so suddenly? It was all Marty's fault. Whatever had happened. And Marty had to fix it…

With a determined mood washing over his tired, confused and shaken form, Marty pulled the DeLorean from its temporal parking space and on to the main road. Staring into the darkness of the night, he started the time machine's engine and began to build up speed. He could feel the revs as they built up under his feet. Like a cantering horse awaiting the order to gallop. Finally, Marty released the pedal and the DeLorean zoomed into the darkness.

Fifty eight miles per hour….the speed was building up and Marty could feel the power channelling through his determination. His need to know what happened rising.

Sixty eight….There it was, that roar that only the engine of a DeLorean could release.

Seventy eight…Building and building. The energy of nuclear fusion generator building, ready to be unleashed upon the world.

EIGHTY EIGHT MILES PER HOUR!

Light enveloped the car and its passenger. Tracks of burning fire marked the DeLorean's course as it made its way through the treacherous minefield that time travel set out for her. BOOM!

And the car vanished. All that displayed that anything had even been there that night were flaming tyre tracks. Burning their way through time….leaving their mark….and leading anywhere.

-x-x-x-

Well, there it is. The 'last' bit. I hope you've enjoyed it and that the story kept you guessing. The next part of the storyline is now up and running. Just check out 'Fallout from the Atomic Wars'. Thank you so much for reading this and I hope it's made you smile as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

From BritishAlien (Katie)


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